A New Beginning
by SuzSeb
Summary: This is the sequel to my story "Remember My Name". You'll be lost without reading that first. To really understand where "A New Beginning" starts, you need to know what happened before. Nick faces his future outside the Lab.
1. Chapter 1

FF_992224_ 11/10/2009

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

Rating may increase in future chapters.

A/N: To know what happened prior to this, you really need to read my story "Remember My Name". This is the sequel.

* * *

Nick Stokes, ex-LVPD CSI grasped his cane tightly and used it to unfold himself from the car. He was really glad they'd decided to do this away from the lab. It's not that he didn't want to go back to the LVPD Crime Lab, but doing his Goodbye Party there would bring too many emotions too close to the surface.

"Nick?" a soft voice interrupted his introspection.

Nick looked at Maria Santiago as she came around the car. They'd been dating for over a year now and Nick didn't know what he'd do without her. These past seven months had torn his life apart, but Maria had been right there next to him: a rock for him to lean on, or a shelter from the storms.

He smiled at her. "I'm ok," he assured the black-haired, violet-eyed beauty. "Just glad they picked a restaurant instead of…" he let his voice trail off.

Maria just nodded. They both waited for the uniformed LVPD officer to join them. Nick knew that eventually his protection would end, but he kept any objections to himself after a conversation with Officer Frank "Mitch" Mitchell.

"_Mitch, y'all aren't gonna be able to do this forever," he'd said._

"_Let us judge what we can handle," Mitch had replied._

"_Mitch…" he'd begun._

"_Nick, do you want to know why __**I**__ do this?" Mitch'd interrupted._

_He'd nodded silently._

"_There're two reasons." Mitch held his gaze. "The first is I figure I owe it to Tuck."_

_Mitch'd watched as his eyes closed in pain. Behind his closed eyelids he'd seen again the defeat on Tuck's face as they forced him to his knees. He'd heard again Tuck's soft, "Sorry, Nick." His body had jerked as he'd heard that final gunshot in his memories. His eyes had been wet with tears when he opened them and met Mitch's gaze._

"_You know the only thing he'd ask from us is to protect you," Mitch's voice had been husky with emotion._

_He'd nodded mutely. They'd both been silent for a moment. "And the second?" he'd finally asked huskily._

"_Would you wanna be one of us trying to explain to Captain Brass how we let his only son get killed?" Mitch'd given him a wry grin. He'd returned it. They'd both been on the wrong side of Brass's temper when the captain had felt they'd done something stupid._

"_So I guess everyone knows," he'd said, ducking his head._

"_Pretty much," Mitch had grinned. "If you were staying…" he'd let his voice trail off._

"Nick?" Maria's soft voice once again interrupted his thoughts.

"Just remembering," Nick replied. His slight smile reassured her that it wasn't a bad memory – at least not completely.

Nick, Maria and Officer Brian Kent made their way to the restaurant. Before Nick could get the door for Maria, Officer Kent moved forward and held it for them both. Nick shot him a look as he gestured them through with a flourish. This wasn't part of their usual routine.

Kent grinned, "Just giving the man of the hour his due," he said.

Nick shook his head and grinned back. "Clown," he said with good-humor in his voice.

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" Maria muttered under her breath. Both men's eyes met and they grinned again.

As they reached the hostess stand, Nick looked around the restaurant, wondering where the party was being held. The restaurant they were in, The Rodeo Steakhouse, was new. It had only been open for a few months, but Nick had heard good things about it. Nick's interest in the restaurant's Western décor was distracted by the large banner at the back of the dining room that read "Congratulations Nick!"

He frowned in puzzlement even as Catherine, Greg and Ecklie approached. Catherine smiled at his frown, noticing the direction of his gaze. "We decided we weren't going to give you a Goodbye Party, Nicky," she hugged him tightly.

"Yeah, 'cause we're not gonna say goodbye," Greg chimed in. He took Nick's hand for a shake then pulled him into a one-armed hug.

"We'll still be around, we just have to, uh share you with a lot more people," Catherine added, hugging Maria as well.

"So we decided on a 'Congratulations on Your New Job Party'," Ecklie finished. He shook Nick's hand after Greg released him.

The smile on Nick's face widened into a traditional Nick Stokes grin as he realized what his friends were saying. They weren't willing to let him leave their lives. "Thanks, guys," he said quietly. He met each of their eyes and silently expressed the depth of his gratitude.

"Go mingle," Catherine ordered with a smile. Seeing the expression on Nick's face made all their hard work worth it.

Nick moved into the room, looking forward to visiting with each and everyone there. The four in the doorway watched him go with indulgent smiles.

Catherine looked at Maria, her smile dimming a little. "So how's he really doing?" she asked with concern.

"He is doing pretty good," Maria replied, reassuringly. "Really," she insisted, when the others looked at her for confirmation. "I am not saying he's a beam of sunshine every day, but he is positive more often than he is negative. He **is** dealing with all the changes."

"Even the cane?" Greg asked. It hurt to see his once-athletic friend forced to use a cane to get around.

"That is one of the more difficult changes," Maria admitted. "He has not fully dealt with it, but he is working on it."

Nick was gradually working his way around the room. He'd already spoken to Mandy and Wendy. They'd ganged up on him and made him promise he and Maria would set up a rotating monthly get-together with the others from the lab. Archie had invited him to a guy's night playing video games. Henry invited him and Maria to dinner with he and his brother.

It was while he was talking with Henry, that Hodges approached. "Well, I for one, won't miss Nick."

Nick grinned and exchanged glances with Henry. "So why'd y'all come, Hodges?"

"Free food," Hodges replied with a smirk.

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with Wendy being here, either," Henry smirked.

Hodges glared.

Nick laughed and moved on to Al Robbins and Dave Phillips. "Super Dave, Al," he greeted.

"Now **I'm** gonna miss that," Dave said mournfully.

"Miss what?" Al asked.

"The 'Super Dave's," Dave said with a shy grin.

"I'll call ya up once a month and lay one on ya, Super Dave," Nick interjected with a grin.

They all laughed. Al asked Nick how preparing for the next school year was going. Nick groaned dramatically and said that if they thought they had paperwork, they should come visit and see the piles on his desk.

"I'd really like that, Nick," Al said, studying Nick's reaction.

Nick's face lit up. "Sure, Doc. Give me a call on Monday and we'll set it up."

Al patted Nick's shoulder. "Great, Nick. I'll do that."

Nick clapped him on the back and moved toward Jim Brass. Brass was standing toward the back of the room near a table. He smiled at Nick as he moved to stand next to him. If Maria had been one bright spot in Nick's life these past seven months, Brass was another. They'd spent quite a bit of time together: fishing on Lake Meade, watching games together, and playing pool and cards. Their already close friendship was deepening into something more. It wasn't quite a father-son relationship, but Nick didn't think either one of them was ready for that. He wasn't sure they ever would be.

"Jim," Nick said quietly.

"Nick," Jim smiled. His hand went to the back of Nick's neck and he squeezed gently. "What do you think?" He gestured at the table he'd been standing near.

Nick hadn't noticed until Jim pointed it out, but the table was full of brochures and envelopes. A sign announced the 'Michael Tucker Memorial Scholarship' to UNLV. Nick turned his shocked gaze back to Brass.

"What? ... How? ..." he stammered.

"We wanted to get you a gift, but we didn't know what to get you. I mean we have no clue what you're gonna need in your new job. Someone suggested that bringing money in is always appreciated by universities. But we didn't want to just let UNLV decide what to do with our money. It was Wendy who suggested funding a scholarship and Mitch who suggested the name. I contacted Dr. Cummings, the UNLV President and he okayed the idea."

Nick listened silently, still in shock. Finally he asked, "Where did all the money come from?" gesturing toward a chart showing collections of over $15,000 already received.

"We put collection boxes at the front desks, both in the lab and PD. Ecklie and I convinced the brass to match any contributions up to $5,000. When we went through the collections yesterday morning, we had a little over $5,000 in cash, plus an anonymous money order for $5,000. Everyone was shocked! We have no idea who left it. No one saw anyone put it in the box at the lab."

"Wow," Nick murmured. "What's your goal?"

"Well, after talking to Dr. Cummings, we decided $25,000 would cover a one-year scholarship. That's our goal for this year. So we need $10,000 more. We're gonna charge admission for the Annual CSI/PD Softball tournament and all proceeds will go towards the Fund." He looked carefully at Nick.

"I'd like to talk to ya about that, Nicky," Brass slung his arm around Nick's shoulders as Nick looked uncomfortable and started to move back from his friend.

"Jim…" Nick began.

"Nick, we want you to manage the Graveyard Team," Brass interrupted. He felt Nick flinch.

After a slight hesitation, Nick twisted out from under Jim's arm and stared at him in shock. "I don't… I can't…" he closed his eyes and turned his head away for a moment. When he turned back, his expression was closed, his features tense. "I can't deal with this right now, Jim." He turned to move away. "I need some air."

"Nicky, please just think about it," Brass said softly.

Nick inclined his head in acknowledgement and moved as swiftly as he could to the door. Brian Kent followed unobtrusively.

Brass sighed heavily and joined the group containing Catherine, Maria, Greg, Archie and Wendy. Mitch followed him over.

"Well?" Greg asked.

"He was excited and thrilled by the Fund," Jim said quietly.

"But…" Archie prompted.

"But he was seriously upset at the thought of coaching the softball team," Jim sighed.

Maria stared at the door Nick had rushed out of with concern.

"Maria?" Catherine asked. "Should you …?" she let her voice trail off when Maria shook her head decisively.

"No," Maria reiterated softly but firmly. "No, Nick has to figure this one out himself. I will listen and support him whatever he decides – but it will be **his** decision."

The others contemplated her words and nodded in acceptance. The conversation then moved on to more general topics.

Nick swore softly and paced on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. He paused for a moment, startled, when he saw Brian Kent after turning to head back the way he came. Then he shrugged and continued his pacing.

Brian stood next to a bench and silently watched Nick pace back and forth. He caught snatches of what Nick was muttering as he went by.

"How can they expect…?" "I can't even swing…" "It's not the same…" "God, I miss…" "They don't understand…" "It hurts…"

Finally Nick slumped into the bench next to Brian and slid his face into his hands. He didn't move for several moments. He finally lifted his head and stared at his cane. Then he looked up at Brian. "How can I possibly coach any team, much less the CSI/PD softball team? I played on that team for over ten years. And now I don't think I'm physically capable of even coaching it."

"Nick," Brian said gently, "they don't expect miracles. They just want you to be a part of it."

"I don't know if I can stand just bein' a figurehead," Nick replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"That's not what I meant," Brian insisted, his voice still gentle. "You don't have to swing the bat or throw the ball to manage the team." He put his hand on Nick's shoulder. "You can give pointers and tell them what they're doing wrong without actually physically participating."

Nick nodded, but didn't look at Brian. His voice was very soft when he said, "I don't know if I can do it. I just don't know…" his voice faded and he continued to stare at his cane.

"No one thinks any less of you because you got injured, Nick," Brian continued to try to raise Nick's spirits. "If anything, we admire your persistence and sheer stubbornness." He grinned at Nick's choked chuckle. "Yeah, well all know where you get **that** from now."

Nick raised his head and met Brian's amused look at that comment. His mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Do y'all give Jim as much shit as you give me?"

"No," Brian said carelessly, "you're nowhere near as scary as Captain Brass."

Nick laughed and pushed himself up from the bench. "Let's go back to the party. I've got time to think about this later."

* * *

A/N: A nice, long chapter to get us going. What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

FF_992224_ 11/25/2009

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

A/N: On the medical stuff - I made it up. I need it to work that way for the story. So please don't flame if I have it wrong.

* * *

_Brian nodded and followed Nick back toward the restaurant. He stumbled a bit as they entered the building, leaning forward and to his left; reaching out to Nick's left shoulder to catch his balance. That's when they both heard the shot, just after feeling the breeze from the bullet passing their heads to the right. _

Brian grabbed Nick around the waist and let his momentum carry them both to the floor. They heard the commotion in the restaurant as the others reacted to the sound of the gunshot. Brian stayed on top of Nick protectively as they waited for another shot.

"Kent," Brass called, approaching the front of the restaurant cautiously.

"Yeah, Captain," Brian answered. He looked at Nick for confirmation before adding, "We're Code 4 here. No hit. I repeat, neither of us was hit."

"Let's get Nick secured," Brass said authoritatively. "Backup's on its way. Once the scene's secured, we'll get Nick to a safe place. Then we can see if we got anything to help us get this guy."

"You and I both know he's already gone," Nick said wearily, still covered by the uniformed officer. He could hear the sirens of the approaching backup. "And I wasn't the target this time." Nick sensed the sharp looks sent his way by both police officers. "I'll prove it once the scene's secured."

"Nick…" Brass began.

"Damnit Jim, just listen to what I've got to say. Then if y'all don't agree, y'all can argue with me," Nick's pronounced accent indicated the stress he felt.

"Ok, Nick, ok," Brass gave in. They all waited tensely while the backup arrived and quickly secured the area.

Nick was finally allowed back to his feet, but was directed further into the restaurant.

"You can show us your theory when we're sure it's safe," Brass insisted.

"So y'all want to wait until he's dead?" Nick muttered sarcastically. But he allowed them to guide him further in. Maria met him at the entrance to the dining room. Nick saw the fear she was trying to hide and opened his arms. They were both trembling slightly as they stood there in each other's arms.

"I'm ok," Nick whispered, soothingly. "I'm fine, darlin'."

"I know," Maria reached up and gently caressed Nick's cheek. "I know," she repeated. She managed to produce a small smile. "I just…" her voice trailed off.

Nick pulled her closer and Maria buried her face in the crook of his neck. They stood that way while Brass and the other officers reassured themselves that the threat was over.

"Ok, Nick," Brass spoke quietly. "You want to explain who the target was if it wasn't you?"

"Yeah," Nick lifted his head from where it was resting on Maria's. "I'll just be a minute."

Brass nodded and moved back toward the entrance to give Nick and Maria a little privacy.

Nick looked down at Maria. She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. Her eyes met his. "It will be all right, my love," she whispered. She kissed him gently on the lips. "Go do what you must. I will wait."

Nick nodded silently and hugged her tightly once more before releasing her and limping after Brass.

Catherine and Wendy moved over to Maria to keep her company. They both watched the awkward way Nick was moving. They turned back to Maria, the question clear in their expressions.

She nodded sadly. "His limp gets worse when Nick is under stress. It's something he is learning to live with."

Catherine felt her eyes tear up, but she refused to let the tears fall. Nick's life had drastically changed because of what Jeff McKeen, Jack Willman, Nigel Crane and Craig Miller had done to him.

"Is there anything we can do?" Wendy asked softly.

"Yes," Maria replied. Her eyes followed Nick for a moment before she met her friends' concerned gazes. "It makes him very self-conscious. The more you ignore it, the better he will deal with it."

The others nodded.

Nick moved after Brass carefully, knowing his left leg was already stressed. He reached the entrance just as Roy Parker, one of the day shift CSIs was reaching for the trajectory rod that was sticking out from the wall.

"Hey, Roy," Nick called, moving just a little faster.

"Hey, Nick," Roy paused and waited for Nick to reach him.

"Can ya leave that for a few minutes?" Nick asked.

"Sure," he watched Nick look over the crime scene. "You need anything else?"

"I don't think so, thanks man," Nick replied.

Roy nodded.

"So?" Brass asked quietly.

"Brian, ya wanna get in the same position we were in when we heard the shot?" Nick asked the uniformed officer.

"Sure," Brian moved behind Nick like they were when they came into the building.

They all looked at the trajectory rod compared to the pair in the doorway. To emphasize his point, Nick walked forward until he was standing next to the wall with the rod. The trajectory rod was a good two inches above his head.

"Brian's four inches taller than me," Nick said quietly. "Craig was willin' to chance a graze or an outright miss, to avoid hittin' me. He doesn't want me dead – not yet."

"What does he want?" Detective Alex Vartann asked.

"He wants me afraid – terrified. He wants me afraid for both myself and the people around me. He wants the people around me afraid, too. He wants y'all to pull away from me. Even more, he wants me to push y'all away. That way, when he comes for me, I'll be alone." Nick's voice was quiet, composed. It was obvious he'd considered this.

"He will **not** get what he wants, then," it was Maria who'd spoken. All eyes went to where she stood resolute in the entranceway. She was a little pale, but calm and composed. There was concern on her face, but not fear.

Nick let a small smile spread over his face. "No, he won't," he agreed. "We're **all** too stubborn for that."

It cracked them all up, although that hadn't been his intention. His eyes met Brian's as they both remembered their earlier conversation. That's when Nick lost it.

The laughter was dieing down when Nick locked eyes with Brian and said, "So it's all Brass's fault!" and they started laughing again. The others just looked at them like they were crazy.

When they were finally composing themselves again, Brass said, "Kent, you've been hanging around Nick too much. He's infected you."

Nick rolled his eyes. That's when the rest of his friends standing behind Maria in the entrance to the dining room caught his gaze. "Sorry to break up the party," he said, quietly. He'd needed that moment of levity, but reality settled back on his shoulders like a heavy weight. He couldn't afford to forget Craig Miller and the threat he represented.

They all saw it. Greg spoke before Nick could continue. "Who said the party's over?" he asked.

"But," Nick frowned in confusion, "this is a crime scene."

"That's a crime scene," Greg gestured at the entry to the restaurant. "**This** is a party," he pointed inside the dining room. "Besides, they have nothing more to process. And with all the officers out there, this is the safest place for you."

"He's right," Brass agreed.

Nick stared at Brass in shock. "Did you just say Greg was right?"

"Hell, the kid talks so much, he's bound to get something right, sometime," Brass grinned.

"And y'all think I'm nuts," Nick grumbled. "Partyin' at a crime scene - what would Grissom say?"

"Sorry, I'm late?" Nick heard the voice behind him and turned in shock. Grissom stood there with Sara on his arm. "Our plane was late."

They both looked around at the trajectory rod, evidence markers, and officers milling around. It was Sara who commented. "Party crashers?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Just one," Nick said wryly. "Just lettin' me know he's still interested."

Nick wasn't the only one who'd left the LVPD Crime Lab in the past few months. Grissom had finally followed Sara to Costa Rica. They'd been married down there shortly after he'd arrived.

"And what the heck are y'all doin' here in Vegas?" Nick continued, examining his friends. They looked good – happy.

"You don't think we'd miss **this** party, do you?" Sara asked.

Nick snorted. "So y'all couldn't be bothered to come back t'get hitched, but y'all just had to make it for **my** party." He eyed his friends suspiciously. He winced internally, knowing his friends would pick up on his exaggerated accent and know what it meant.

He mentally sighed with relief when Sara just said, "So we couldn't wait, you got a problem with that?" with a suggestive smirk. The look in her eyes told him he wasn't fooling her, though. Nick knew she'd corner him later to discuss it.

"What happened, Nick?" Grissom asked quietly.

"Craig took a shot at Brian," Nick replied, gesturing at his uniformed friend.

"Are you sure it was at Brian?" Grissom questioned.

Nick was tired of everyone questioning him. He sighed loudly, glaring at the trajectory rod. He wasn't going to say it again. He looked at Grissom. He was moving around the scene, examining the evidence himself. Nick rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He still doesn't trust my opinion," he muttered under his breath.

He turned to go into the dining room and his left leg gave out on him. He cursed violently and grabbed at the hostess stand to keep himself upright.

"Nick!" Sara exclaimed.

Maria said nothing, but moved swiftly to support him.

Nick transferred his hold to Maria. His face was pale and sweat was beading on his forehead. His mouth was clamped tightly shut, but a moan escaped from deep in his throat. His eyes snapped to Maria's, desperation flaring. He **needed** to sit down. The muscles in his leg were cramping and the pain was escalating.

Maria shot a look at Brian, who was already on his way to Nick's other side. Mitch moved into the dining room, grabbing a chair and carrying it to where Maria and Brian were almost carrying Nick through the doorway.

Maria turned to Catherine and finally spoke, "I need my purse," was all she said.

Catherine blinked at her, taken aback by what was happening with Nick. Wendy sprang to the table they'd been at earlier and grabbed the purse. Even as she handed it to Maria, Jim came up with a glass of water. Nick was bent over, massaging his leg, trying to keep from crying out with the pain.

Mara took a prescription bottle from her purse and took two pills from it. "Nick," she said softly.

Nick put a hand out and took the pills. Popping them into his mouth, he took the glass from Brass and washed the medicine down. After handing the glass back to Brass, his hands went back to his leg, kneading the muscles, trying to massage away the cramps.

Maria looked up and found both Sara and Catherine staring at the bottle in her hand. "Muscle relaxers," she said, returning it to her purse.

Sara's gaze traveled between Maria, Officer Kent, Mitch and Brass. Their reactions were too smooth, too practiced. None of them had been surprised by Nick's near collapse. She thought about letting it pass – waiting for a more private moment. But the others around her, including Catherine and Greg, were still staring in shock and she decided it was time for the truth.

"How often?" she asked quietly.

Maria turned toward her, anger flaring across her face. Nick grabbed her wrist. When she turned back to him, he was looking at her, shaking his head.

He was still pale and sweating. Pain was etched deep into his face. "It's ok, Maria," he said quietly. "It's ok." He looked down to where his hands were still flexing on his leg, trying to ease the pain.

Sara watched her friend quietly, patiently. She knew Nick wasn't ignoring her or her question. Knowing Nick as well as she did, she simply waited for her friend to find the words and the composure to answer.

When Nick finally sighed and looked up again, he was still pale and the lines of pain still showed on his face. But the sweating and a great deal of the tension were gone. Brian silently handed him a wet paper towel he'd gotten from the restroom and Nick wiped his face with it. A dry towel followed and Nick used that as well. When he was finished, Nick's face was even more composed. He met Sara's look without flinching.

"You asked how often," Nick spoke clearly, his quiet voice carrying through the room. "It happens two to three times a week." He didn't flinch at the shock and horror expressed around them, though Sara saw pain flare in his eyes.

"Why?" As usual, Grissom was blunt and to the point.

"Nerve damage – permanent nerve damage," Nick replied. "When I get stressed or over-use my leg, the signals get blocked – jammed. That causes the cramps."

"And there's nothing they can do?" Greg asked.

"There's nothing they can do," Nick confirmed, struggling to hold on to his patience.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sara asked.

At the same time Catherine asked, "Should you be working?"

"And **that's** why I didn't tell you," Nick flared. "Just what the hell am I **supposed** to do? Should I give up my life and let that… that bastard win? Am I supposed to just stay at home and hide because he hurt me?"

"That's not who I am! I don't run from a little pain. I've been in pain most of my life." Nick saw his friends cringe when he said that. But it was true. "If I let pain stop me from doin' what I wanna do, bein' who I wanna be, I wouldn't be here. Hell, I'd probably be dead."

Nick looked up and saw Brass wheeling something in. It was Brass who spoke next. "The docs said the only way to guarantee the cramps would stop is if Nick gave up tryin' to walk and just stayed in the wheelchair." He opened up the wheelchair he'd brought in and reached his hand out to Nick. There was a thick silence as Nick transferred himself from the dining room chair to the wheelchair.

The silence weighed on everyone until Greg's solemn expression cracked into a grin; and he said joyously, laying the sarcasm on as heavy as he could, "Yeah, like **that's** gonna happen!"

Everyone laughed – even Nick. While the others continued, Nick looked at Greg. A tilt of his head indicated his thanks and he got a small smirk and a head bob in response.

Although he normally refused the help, Nick let Brass wheel him to a nearby table. There he and his friends spent another three hours, eating, laughing and talking – celebrating the bonds of their friendship.

* * *

A/N: So, what do ya think? Let me know.


	3. Chapter 3

FF_992224_ 12/14/2009

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

A/N: Longer than you're used to from me - but it just wouldn't end!

* * *

_Although he normally refused the help, Nick let Brass wheel him to a nearby table. There he and his friends spent another three hours, eating, laughing and talking – celebrating the bonds of their friendship. _

Nick was in his new office, working on the paperwork that covered his desk. Every so often he would look up, scowl at the uniformed officer standing next to the door, then return his attention to the paperwork.

Brian Kent met his gaze the next time Nick scowled at him. "I'm not gonna go away if you glare long enough."

Nick heaved a heavy sigh and looked back at his paperwork. "I don't need two guards," he muttered.

Brian just waited for his next look and grinned brightly at him.

Nick's scowl deepened and he looked down again. "There's only one way to get in here," was his next muttered complaint.

"Nick, both the LVPD and UNLV Campus Security agree that this is the best solution." Brian said quietly.

"**I'm** not the one he took a shot at," Nick blurted, frustration plain in his voice. "Y'all just doubled his potential targets."

"You may not be the immediate target, but you're his **ultimate** target," Brian replied. "His only purpose in targeting us is to hurt you."

A knock at the door interrupted them. They both looked at the door as it opened and Nick's assistant, Judy Tremont bustled in. Nick forced a smile at the ex-LVPD Crime Lab receptionist. Catherine had called and told him Judy was looking to switch to Days, but there were no openings at the Lab. She'd asked Nick if he could check out openings at the University. Nick had been in the process of interviewing for his assistant's position and was dissatisfied with all the candidates he had. He knew and liked Judy. But there were times when Nick wondered if Catherine had sent her over to keep an eye on him. Still, most of the time, Nick just dismissed that as his own paranoia.

"Dr. Stokes," Judy greeted cheerfully, "your visitor is here." She stepped aside to let Dr. Robbins enter the room.

Nick stood up and moved to greet the coroner. He'd been gratified when Al had followed up on their conversation at the party last week. His gaze moved past Al and Judy to the UNLV Security Officer standing just inside the door to Judy's office. A scowl crossed his face before he could control it.

Brian caught Dr. Robbins' mystified look at Nick's scowl and grinned. "Don't worry, Doc, it's not you he's scowling at. Nick's not happy with our security arrangements."

Nick's mouth twisted into a pained smile. He saw the expression on Al's face and said, "Don't. Please don't say it. I've been inundated with all the 'valid' reasons why this is necessary. I don't need to hear them again."

He looked at his assistant," Thanks, Judy." She smiled, nodded and closed the door between their offices.

"Come in and have a seat, Doc." Nick ushered Robbins to a comfortable seating arrangement set in one corner of his office. A small table with three chairs was arranged in another corner. The other half of the room was filled with Nick's desk, credenza and bookshelves.

Robbins chuckled when he saw Nick's desk. "You weren't exaggerating the amount of paperwork you're dealing with."

Nick laughed with him. "I never thought I'd take a job with **more** paperwork than the lab. And if I did, I never thought I'd **like** it." His eyes sparkled with amusement.

Al watched his expression carefully. He hadn't been sure what he'd find here. He'd been afraid he'd find Nick just going through the motions. He was surprised but relieved to find an excited, happy Nick, finding his way on his new path. But then again, Nick wasn't one to dwell on the past. He preferred moving forward.

The two friends began chatting about Nick's job. They discussed his satisfaction, for the most part, with the curriculum already in place. Al was interested to hear about some changes he'd like to work in gradually. And he was surprised at some of the extra-curricular classes Nick eventually planned to incorporate. Nick was asking about changes around the Lab when a knock on the door interrupted.

It was Judy again. "Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Stokes, but Dr. Cummings called. He wanted to let you know they're moving your address from the classroom to the small auditorium. Also, he's issuing about one hundred press passes."

Nick sighed heavily. He forced himself to smile and nod at Judy. "Thanks, Judy. I'll get back with Dr. Cummings myself later."

As Judy closed the door behind her, Nick recognized the curiosity on both Brian's and Al's faces. He knew they'd find out eventually anyway. "I was gonna have a couple of 'Welcome' chats with the students this semester. You know, 'I'm the new Dean, this is where I came from' kind of thing. Rumors started flyin' and more and more people wanted to attend. Dr. Cummin's suggested I do one big gatherin' the day before classes start. Well, they've just moved it from a classroom seatin' three hundred to an auditorium seatin' three thousand. And now he's invitin' the press."

"So what are you going to do?" Al asked.

"There's not much I can do," Nick replied. "This's what I signed on for when I took this job. I'm just gonna have to re-write my speech, I guess. And figure out what questions I'll answer and what I won't." Nick smiled sadly. "It's the price I pay for this lovely office."

"You want some moral support?" Al asked.

Nick's smile lost some of the sadness. "It can't hurt. I'll have Judy send over some tickets."

"I'll let her know how many." Al resolved to badger the rest of the Graveyard Shift until they all agreed to come.

The two friends spent another half-hour talking before they had to get back to their routines. Nick grinned as he watched Al leave. He'd gotten the coroner to agree to be a guest speaker in a couple of classes in the coming semester. His grin stayed in place as he turned back to his desk and dug in to the paperwork again.

His expression gradually sobered as he focused on his work for the next several hours. Tension tightened his features when he finally prepared to call the University President back. He spoke quietly and easily to Dr. Cummings though his expression conveyed his underlying tension and discomfort with the way this event had escalated so quickly . He referred Dr. Cummings to Jim Brass when he asked about the security arrangements. He assured his boss that he'd give the LVPD captain a heads-up about the event and Dr. Cummings agreed to contact him later that week.

After a quick lunch the UNLV officer delivered, Nick spent the afternoon going over the personnel records of the professors that were working under him. He wanted to get a feel for who they were before the staff meeting he had scheduled for the next day. Finally, by 5:00 p.m. he was ready to call it quits. He gathered up a few files he wanted to take with him and waited for the all-clear from Brian before leaving the office.

Nick found LVPD Detective Alex Vartann waiting for him when he got to his house on campus. "I heard from Catherine that she and Maria were going shopping. It's my night off and I thought you might appreciate some company watching the game."

"Pizza ok?" Nick asked.

Vartann nodded. "I brought the beer," he held up a 12-pack.

Nick opened the door and ushered Vartann in. It wasn't unusual for Vartann to come around once a month or so and spend his night off. Nick knew it was something Alex felt he owed Tuck. He wasn't going to argue with the detective. If spending the night watching over Nick made Alex feel better, who was he to complain?

The two spent a relaxed, companionable evening: drinking beer, eating pizza and arguing over the game. Their shared laughter was shattered about 9:00 p.m. by the brick coming through the front window. Vartann hit the lights, then helped pull Nick into cover behind the sofa.

Once they were under cover, Vartann grabbed his radio and demanded to know what was going on.

He and Nick exchanged glances when the UNLV officer outside replied, "It's a kid on a bike. I'm in pursuit and backup is on its way."

Nick started to get up, but Vartann's hand on his shoulder held him down. "Wait until the scene's secured," he insisted.

Nick spoke quietly. "There was something wrapped around the brick."

"I saw," Alex replied, "but you're still staying put until the scene's secured."

"Yes, mother," Nick muttered.

Vartann stifled a laugh. They both relaxed when the two campus police cars arrived, lights flashing. When the officers relayed the all-clear, Nick and Alex made their way from behind the sofa.

"Hold on a moment," Nick suggested as he made his way to the hall closet. Taking out a box, he pulled a pair of latex gloves from it and tossed the box to Vartann. Then he moved carefully to the brick as Vartann gloved up.

Pulling the paper from the brick, Nick gently unfolded it. Vartann was watching when the color drained from his face and his hands started shaking. He quickly took the paper carefully when Nick held it out. Nick immediately pulled out his cell phone as Vartann read the note out loud.

"It's 9:00. Do you know where your fiancée is?" Vartann's eyes shot to Nick. He was dialing over and over. He shook his head – Maria wasn't answering. Vartann dropped the paper on to the coffee table and began dialing Catherine. He cursed as he only reached her voice mail.

By this time, the UNLV Campus Police were joined by three LVPD black and whites. Jim Brass got out of his own unmarked car and entered the house. He quietly surveyed the damage, then turned to Nick and Vartann. Before he could speak, both his and Vartann's radios came to life.

Sam Vega identified himself and continued, "I'm here with Maria Santiago and Catherine Willows. They've been involved in a minor MVA. But everything is Code 4. I repeat, no one is injured. It's just a minor MVA. It **is** a hit-and-run, though."

Even as Vartann grabbed his radio in relief, Nick's phone rang. Nick checked the display. He heard Vartann telling Vega to bring Catherine and Maria to the house ASAP. Seeing Maria's name displayed, Nick answered.

"Maria, are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm ok, but I'm not Maria," he heard.

Nick stiffened as he recognized the voice. The look on his face caused Jim Brass to hold up his hand and call for silence. Nick put his phone on speaker.

"Craig," he asked evenly, "how did you get this phone?" He ignored the reactions from the others in the room.

"I had someone lift it after the accident," Craig Miller replied. "You know, insertin' a knife would'a been just as easy as retrievin' the phone."

"Why didn't ya?" Nick asked calmly. "And why wasn't the brick somethin' more destructive?"

"I want you to **suffer**," Miller insisted. "I want you to wonder when it's gonna happen. You'll never know when or if I'll strike."

"**You**, strike?" Nick said mockingly. "As far as I can tell, the only time y'all have struck is after I was restrained or drugged. Y'all've never followed through on any of your threats. You made some pretty vicious ones fifteen years ago. And you made specific promises seven months ago. Neither of which you've followed through on. What's wrong, Craig? Are y'all scared?"

Miller cursed viciously. "Scared of you? There's no way I'm scared of you! I just use my resources to the best of their abilities. I'm the brains, they're the brawn."

"Yeah, yeah, methinks the coward doth protest too much," Nick sneered. He paused for a moment as he listened to a report on the radio. "You had a kid throw the brick. He's in custody. You had another low-life cause the accident. He's also in custody. Who are y'all tryin' to isolate: you or me?"

Miller cursed again. Before he could get out anything more coherent, Maria and Catherine arrived with Sam Vega in tow. Maria heard the voice on the phone and saw the look on Nick's face. She **knew** the caller was Craig Miller.

She interrupted his curses by demanding loudly, "Is that the imbécil?"

Nick saw the expression on her face and tried to head her off. "Maria…" he began.

He was cut off by a stream of invective in Spanish. She moved toward the sofa Nick sat on, continuing her diatribe in Spanish the entire way. Nick smiled as she reached out and took his hand, her words finally slowing.

"Y'all lettin' your fiancée fight your battles for ya?" Miller asked Nick.

Maria answered before Nick could. "I do not fight his battles. And Nick does not fight mine."

Before anything else was said, they heard Miller curse again and then the call went dead. The room was silent for a moment before Vartann came back in, shaking his head.

"They missed him," he reported quietly. "They did retrieve the phone."

"Keep it in evidence," Nick said. "We'll get Maria a new one tomorrow." He was seated on the sofa, Maria to his right, still holding his hand. His left hand was running up and down his left leg.

Brass noticed and looked around. Before he could say anything, Vega came back into the room with a glass of water and Nick's medication. He silently handed the medication then the water to Nick. Nick released Maria's hand with his right and took what the detective offered.

"So what now?" Vega asked quietly.

"Now we take statements, file reports and interrogate suspects," Brass said just as quietly. He heard Nick heave a heavy sigh. "And we hope we get something that'll lead us to that bastard."

Vega took Nick into the kitchen to take his statement. Brass sat down next to Maria to get her statement on the accident. Vartann nodded Catherine into the dining room. By the time Brass and Vartann were finished, Nick was nowhere to be found. Brass shot Vega a look. He nodded toward the bedrooms.

Brass moved slowly toward the bedroom. He wasn't looking forward to this. He knocked softly on Nick's bedroom door. When he got no answer, he knocked again and called softly, "Nick… Nicky?" When he still didn't receive an answer, he leaned his head against the door and called again, "I'm here, kid, if ya need me."

He was moving his head away when he heard a muffled, "Thanks."

Brass felt his shoulders relax with relief as he returned, "Anytime, Nick, anytime." He hadn't realized he was so tense.

He was moving away from the door again, when Nick's voice stopped him for the second time. "Hey, Jim?"

"Yeah, Nick?"

"Tell Brian to go home. I see his mug around here too often as it is," Nick drawled.

Brass laughed. He could hear the exhaustion in Nick's voice, but at least his humor was intact. "You got it, boss," he replied.

Four pairs of concerned eyes pinned him as he returned to the living room. "He's ok," he stated. "Tired, though." Brass looked at the green eyes that made up one of the quartet. "Not too tired to tell you to go home, Kent."

Brian Kent blinked. "I didn't think he noticed I was here," he said, surprised.

"You've been around him long enough, now, to realize he sees a lot more than most give him credit for," Brass replied. Brian Kent had been put in charge of Nick's protection detail after Nick's goodbye Party, when it appeared Nick was comfortable with his company. He took most of the day shifts himself, switching off with Pat Tucker when he needed a break. Mitch Mitchell was another frequent participant in the rotation.

"It's my shift," Vartann said quietly.

"I'd like another from our crew, as well," Brian replied.

"I'm free," a voice from the door advised.

"Billy!" Maria exclaimed. "You made it!"

"Yeah," Captain William Stokes, Jr., USN smiled. "Nick sent me an e-mail about his speech. I asked and my boss gave me a two week leave." He gave Maria a hug and nodded at Brian. "After travelin' like I've been, I won't settle until daylight." He grinned at Vartann. "If y'all have no objections, I'd be delighted to take some of Alex's money."

"What about **my** objections?" a tired voice drawled from behind them.

"Hey, Nick," Billy turned around and smiled at Nick. He took in his tired expression and the way he was standing. Nick's casual lean against the doorway wasn't fooling him. He was in pain. "You look like crap."

Nick's eyes moved past Billy to Ray Langston as he processed the window, brick and note. He was silent for a moment, contemplating, before smiling at Billy. "Avoidin' the question, bro?" His smile didn't even try to hide the tired lines on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, bro. Y'all know I just ignore you anyway." Billy grinned. "Y'all wanna seat?"

Nick shook his head. "Just came to see what the fuss was all about. Should'a known it was just y'all showin' off."

"I got two weeks, bro. We can catch up tomorrow. Get some sleep," Billy ordered.

"Y'all just can't help bossin' me around, can ya?" Nick grumbled. "Just gotta be the big brother – always pushin' your little brother around."

Maria laughed as she moved next to Nick and slid her arm around his waist.

"Come on, love, let's get some rest," Maria pulled Nick around and headed back down the hall. "I'm sure Jim and Brian have things under control."

"Yeah, but I'm scared of leavin' them alone with Billy. He might corrupt them." They heard Nick's voice echo down the hall.

Billy sighed as his grin died. "I don't know how he does it. He's tired and hurtin'; and sick of what's goin' on. But he's **still** got his humor."

"It's who he is," Brass said quietly. "Now what's this about a speech?"

Brian and Billy quickly filled him in. Brass nodded and said they'd come up with a plan tomorrow.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think! Thanks :)


	4. Chapter 4

FF_992224_ 1/24/2010

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

* * *

_Billy sighed as his grin died. "I don't know how he does it. He's tired and hurtin'; and sick of what's goin' on. But he's still got his humor."_

"_It's who he is," Brass said quietly. "Now what's this about a speech?"_

_Brian and Billy quickly filled him in. Brass nodded and said they'd come up with a plan tomorrow._

Nick meandered into the kitchen the next morning about 6:30. He found Vartann making coffee alone.

"The usual?" Nick asked, smiling.

"Don't you get tired of cooking for these schmoes?" Brian asked, coming into the room.

"I suppose you're hungry, too," Nick smirked.

"Well, I know how hard it is to just cook for two," Brian grinned.

"Billy?" Nick asked, looking at Vartann.

"He crashed about an hour ago," Alex said.

"How much he take y'all for?" Nick lifted an eyebrow. Alex winced. Nick grinned. He looked at Brian. "Let this be a lesson to ya. Don't play cards with Billy. He's a card shark."

Nick quickly began preparing bacon and eggs for four. Maria came in when he was dishing up the plates. Vartann took the plates and set them on the table while Brian set out the silverware.

After breakfast, Nick quickly cleaned up; dressed and was in his office by 8:00. His first staff meeting was scheduled for 9:30. The time flew. Before he knew it, Judy was ushering in the first two professors.

Nick held out his hand, "Nick Stokes," he said with a smile.

"Maureen O'Riley," and "Frank Riker," were their replies. Maureen taught Biology and was in her mid-forties, with auburn hair and green eyes. Frank was around the same age with salt and pepper hair, a mustache and twinkling blue eyes. He was the Toxicology professor. They were both dressed business casual. Frank wore a navy polo and khaki dockers. Maureen had on a green short-sleeved sweater and khakis.

Nick ushered them over to his table, which had been supplemented with three additional chairs. As they settled themselves at the table, Frank spoke up, "So how are you settling in?"

Nick laughed. "I'm still tryin' to get used to the amount of paperwork that's required." He watched both professors taking in the room. He saw both their gazes pause at Brian Kent, standing quietly and unobtrusively next to the door, but neither commented.

Maureen's eyes returned to the desk, as she replied, smiling, "You've made an impressive dent in that mountain."

Nick grinned back. "I'm a bit of a workaholic," he admitted.

The other two laughed. "Then you'll fit right in," Frank said, smiling.

Their conversation was interrupted when two more professors were shown into the room by Judy.

The young man strode right up to Nick and held his hand out. "You'd be Dr. Stokes," he announced, "I'm Dan Tramden."

"You can call me Nick outside the classroom," Nick said, shaking his hand. He examined the other man as they shook. Dan was the youngest of the group at about 30. He was dressed far more casually than the others in faded jeans and a UNLV t-shirt. He was about Nick's height with shoulder-length blond hair and smoky gray eyes.

"You teach both Physics and Chemistry, right?" Nick continued.

"Right," Dan grinned. "They said I was nuts, but I made it with my sanity mostly intact."

The woman who'd arrived with him snorted. "Mostly? Ri-ight!" She smiled when Nick turned to her and held out his hand.

"Dr. Bergstrom, I presume?" Nick said with a charming grin.

"If you're Nick, then I'd be Jane," she returned his smile. "I teach chemistry with the young scallywag." Jane looked like the epitome of a teacher. She was in her fifties and sturdy. Her gray hair was drawn back in a bun and her brown eyes gleamed with good humor above her glasses. She wore a light blue blouse with a navy skirt and jacket. Navy flats completed the outfit. Her handshake was short and firm.

Jane frowned when she looked around the room. "Robert's late again, I see," she commented as she nodded to Maureen and Frank.

"Is he late often?" Nick asked, interest sharpening his attention.

"To meetings like this, often enough," Frank admitted.

"Oh, just admit it," Dan exclaimed. "The man's a jerk" He looked at Nick. "Bob thought he should have your job. Since Dr. Cummings thought otherwise, he's going to act like a jerk to 'express his displeasure'."

"You know Robert hates it when you call him Bob," Maureen commented.

Dan smirked. "Of course, that's why I do it."

Nick looked at his watch. "It's 9:35 now. We'll wait another five minutes, then get started."

The five chatted easily for five more minutes, Nick enjoying the easy camaraderie the others displayed. After again checking his watch, he moved to his desk and checked to see if Judy had any messages from the missing professor. Getting a negative response, Nick moved back to the table. He was frowning slightly.

"I guess we'll have to get started without Dr. Lawson," he said quietly. He saw Brian move to the door and quietly lock it, then position himself in front of it. As he took his seat at the table, he observed that the others hadn't noticed.

"All right," he began, "let me tell you about my academic background." The others listened intently as he described his schooling. The discussion of the current curriculum that followed was lively, though most expressed their relief that he wasn't planning on changing anything right away.

They were listening to the new ideas he wanted them to consider when the knocks on the door began. Nick checked his watch. It was 10:00. He glanced at Brian. He was still standing in front of the door. Brian shook his head when he caught Nick's glance. He wasn't opening it. He glanced at the professors arrayed around the table with Nick. The noise was distracting them as well.

Brian picked up his radio and quietly murmured instructions. It didn't take long for the knocking to cease. Brian went back to his tin soldier impersonation.

The professors looked back at Nick. "That's probably Bob out there, you know," Dan said, thoughtfully.

Nick shrugged. "You were all given the same instructions about my security measures," Nick replied. "I'm sorry Dr. Lawson chose to disregard them."

No one spoke for a moment. Then Nick picked up the discussion of his new ideas where they'd left it when they got distracted. It was a good discussion and took them to about 10:45. Dan and Jane had even expressed a desire to add one of his ideas to this year's curriculum. Nick told them to get together and work it up, then show him how it would fit. They agreed.

"By the way, Maureen, I convinced a friend of mine to agree to three guest lectures in your field. I'd like you and Dr. Lawson to figure out when and what subject you'd like him to speak on."

Maureen looked somewhat apprehensive. "Who's your friend?" she asked hesitantly.

"Dr. Al Robbins," Nick replied. "He's the LVPD Coroner on night shift."

"Oh, that's **wonderful**!" she exclaimed. "I've been trying to get him to do that for **years!**"

"Yeah, he mentioned that," Nick grinned. "I told him it'd help get me in good with y'all." They all laughed. "Seriously though, he'd have done it sooner, but something always seemed to come up. So get him dates and don't take no for an answer. Tell him I said Super Dave can cover for him for a few hours if need be."

"Got it," Maureen smiled. "I just threaten him with you." They all laughed again.

Nick looked around the table. "If no one has anything else, our time's up," he said quietly. They all got up from the table. They were moving towards the door as Brian unlocked it and then opened it.

The doorway was immediately filled by a short, plump man who was obviously extremely angry. "What the **hell** is going on here?" he demanded loudly.

Nick started forward, but Brian waved him back.

"Well?" the man demanded again. "Why was I kept waiting here for an hour?"

"And you are…?" Brian asked. He was standing just this side of the doorway, blocking the other's way into the room.

"I'm Dr. Robert Lawson, Biology professor, and you had **no right** to keep me here!" Dr. Lawson was still very agitated, his face red, his hands waving angrily.

"I'm sorry you're upset, Dr. Lawson," Brian kept his voice calm and soothing. "You **were** given specific instructions on how to comply with Dr. Stokes' security precautions. They include calling if you're delayed, as well as the precautions that will be followed if you show up unannounced."

"That's ridiculous!" Lawson snapped. "The idea that I, or anyone on this campus could be a threat to Dr. Stokes is simply ridiculous!"

Now Brian was getting angry. "So, are you saying the brick through Dr. Stokes' window last night was our imagination? Or maybe we dreamed the gunshot a week ago?" He glared at the professor. "I don't think so. I also don't think the student that confessed to throwing the brick was delirious. I **know** there is a clear and definite threat to Dr. Stokes' life as long as Craig Miller is not in custody." He took a step forward as his intimidation and anger caused Dr. Lawson to step back.

"I will do whatever it takes to bring to justice the man responsible for that threat as well as the death of a fellow officer. If that bothers, or irritates, or even inconveniences you, that's too bad. Frankly we, the LVPD, value Dr. Stokes well above your opinion or petty gripes." Brian finally ran down, breathing heavily with emotion.

"Well said," Dan Tramden applauded, "Very well said."

A glance from Brian quieted the young professor, though his grin displayed his lack of regret at his inappropriate comment. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Nick took the opportunity to study his wayward professor. He was short and slightly rounded, his plump face still red with anger and embarrassment. He was wearing a navy three-piece suit, his vest slightly twisted, his yellow and blue striped tie loosened around his neck. His white shirt was rumpled and slightly un-tucked. All-in-all, he looked decidedly untidy. Nick hoped he was a better teacher than he looked.

The uncomfortable silence was finally broken when Billy, in full uniform, breezed through the outer office door. He took in the situation, noting the anger on both Brian and the stranger's faces, as well as the lack of anger and concern on Nick's.

"Excuse me," he said to the stranger blocking his way into Nick's office.

"And who the hell are **you**?" Lawson snapped, not giving way.

Now Billy saw anger flash on Nick's face, but he waved his brother off. "I'm Captain William Stokes, Jr., U.S. Navy, at your service," he said quietly and courteously. "And you are?"

"Dr. Robert Lawson," the small man replied, mollified at the courtesy. He was even more surprised when Billy held his hand out.

"It's nice to meet you," Billy kept his smile on his face. "It's always nice to meet one of my brother's colleagues."

Lawson shook his hand and muttered, "I was just leaving," before turning and fleeing the room.

"I don't understand," Billy smirked at Nick. "Was it something I said?"

Brian snorted. He'd calmed somewhat during Billy's conversation with Dr. Lawson. "No, it was definitely something **I** said."

"Why doesn't that surprise me, Bri, why am I so not surprised?" Billy's eyes were gleaming with humor. He moved past Brian into Nick's office after inclining his head to Judy. He looked at the group with Nick with interest.

Nick smiled and introduced his brother to his professors. He smirked a little at the looks of interest exchanged between Billy and Maureen. It looked like a little romance might develop during Billy's two-week leave.

They were chatting casually when Judy came into the room, her face upset. "Dr. Stokes," she said urgently.

"What is it, Judy," Nick asked, the conversation forgotten.

"I'm sorry, he's just so insistent," Judy wrung her hands. "I didn't know what to do."

"It's ok, Judy," Nick said gently, capturing her fluttering hands in his own. "It's gonna be fine, just tell me."

Judy looked up into his calming gaze and said softly, "The Judge is on line one." She felt Nick stiffen, but his eyes stayed calm and gentle.

Nick caught Billy's movement out of the corner of his eye. It was his turn to wave his brother back as he said to Judy and Billy both, "It's okay, I've got it. Don't worry about it, ok?" He gently squeezed Judy's hands before releasing them.

Nick moved to his desk without wasting any more time. He knew he needed to take charge quickly or Billy could get out of control. Brian and Billy both moved with him. Nick didn't pay any attention to the group of professors standing uncertainly near the door.

Nick pressed the speaker button on his phone and said simply, "Yes?"

"I apologize for contacting you," the Judge said. Nick threw a cautioning look at Billy when he growled. "But I received some information that I believe is essential to your safety."

"And that is…?" Nick continued to keep his voice calm and contained. He didn't want to give any more of himself to the Judge.

"I got word that Craig Miller got his hands on ten pounds of semtex," the Judge replied. "I'm not sure how reliable it is. But I did some checkin' and found out that ten pounds of semtex is missin' from Camp Pendleton." The Judge paused. "I don't know if this is a trap or if the information is real. But I had to pass it on."

"Why?" Nick asked. He didn't understand why the man who'd done his best to break him would suddenly want to help him.

"Because it's the very **least** I owe you," the Judge's voice was choked.

Nick was silent for a moment. He'd forgotten about the others in the room. His entire focus was on the Judge and their conversation. "Are you dyin'?" he asked softly.

His question was met with silence. Finally the Judge replied wearily, "You always were too smart for your own good." He paused again before admitting, "Yeah, I'm dyin'. Pancreatic cancer. The docs give me six weeks."

"I'm sorry," Nick spoke automatically, trying to comprehend the Judge's news.

"Don't be," the Judge replied. "I deserve it. Will you do me a favor?"

"What," Nick asked cautiously.

"Will ya let Billy know? He won't accept any kind of communication from me." The Judge paused again. "I know neither you nor Billy want anythin' from me, so I added a note to my will. If either of you refuse it, the money will go to the Michael Tucker Memorial Scholarship Fund."

Nick was silent again before saying, "You were the one who sent the $5,000 cashier's check."

"I wired the money to Jilly's guy. He put the check in for me," the Judge admitted. "Nick, I'm sorry I broke my word to ya. I won't contact ya again. But can ya give me a contact? I've got my guys lookin' for more information on Miller. I'd like to give them a contact for if they find anythin'."

"Have them call Captain Jim Brass at LVPD," Nick gave him Brass's number. "Who are they?"

There was silence from the other end for a moment. "I'll have them go through Greg Hilliard. I trust him with my life. Tell Captain Brass not to trust anyone else. He'll say he's callin' from Cisco for Pancho. If all that isn't there – don't trust it."

"Ok," Nick said quietly. He knew Brian was taking notes. "Why do you care?" he asked uncertainly. Billy stepped closer and put his hand on Nick's shoulder.

The Judge started coughing and Nick waited quietly until he had it under control. "I've been thinkin' about it a lot," he finally said. "And I meant what I told you in the hospital. That we'd **both** been better off if I'd signed the divorce papers. Nothin' I can do can go back and undo what I did or the man I became. All I can change is from this point forward. It doesn't make up for anythin' and that's **not** why I'm doin' it. I'm just tryin' to be the man I might have been if I'd made the **right** choice back then."

Nick thought for a moment, and then asked, "Is that it?"

"No, there's one more thing," the Judge said quietly. "Billy will never tell you, so I need to."

Nick felt Billy's hand twitch on his shoulder. His hand swiftly rose to cover his brother's. Their eyes met and Billy stopped moving, his expression closed.

"What is it?" Nick asked, his eyes locked on his brother's. Billy silently pleaded with him to let it go, but Nick stayed resolute.

"I went down to see Billy after he'd been arrested," the Judge confessed. "When he saw me, he asked if I had anythin' to do with his arrest. I didn't answer but Billy knew the truth." The Judge paused. "That's when he lost it. He called me horrible names. He told me he knew what I'd been doin' to ya. He said he'd tell everyone what a monster I was."

"I told him no one would ever believe him, and that he'd better keep his mouth shut if he knew what was good for him and for you. That's when I saw him pale and I knew he was thinkin' about what he'd already said and whether I'd take that out on you. And I left him thinkin' about that."

"All **I** could think was that I'd lost my son. I knew he wouldn't want anythin' to do with me. I knew if I forced him back home I'd take it out on **both** of you. So I sent him away. I asked the judge to give him a choice. I **knew** he'd choose the Navy. I knew the truth: It wasn't your fault. It wasn't Billy's fault. It was my own fault. And everythin' Billy'd accused me of was the truth. He just told me the truth. And **I** chose to take it out on you."

The Judge sighed wearily. "Will ya tell him that? Tell him it wasn't his fault. I know he always blamed himself."

"You love him," Nick said softly.

"Of course, I love, him!" the Judge exclaimed, "He's my **son!**"

Nick paled and flinched as if he'd been struck. The unspoken words hovered like a wall between them: 'and you're not.'

"I'm sorry," the Judge finally whispered, and then he disconnected the call.

Silence blanketed the room. Nick finally looked up and saw the shocked expressions on the faces of his professors. He swallowed hard and buried the old pain behind a forced smile. He moved out from under Billy's hand and made his way to the group.

"I apologize for airin' my family's dirty laundry in front of y'all," he said, his accent strongly pronounced. "I'd like ta ask y'all ta keep everythin' ya heard confidential, please."

"Of course," Jane answered for the group. "Is there anything we can do?"

"No, but thanks for askin'," Nick replied, his smile a little less forced. He quietly saw the professors on their way.

Nick stared after them as they left, wondering how his private life always seemed to end up public knowledge. He sighed heavily, closing the door, then leaned his head against it. He silently wondered why it still hurt. He **knew** the Judge didn't care about him. He didn't understand why he let it hurt him every time the Judge acknowledged it.

"Nick?" Billy's voice was tentative and he hesitantly laid his hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Yeah," Nick replied, not moving.

"Brian's calling Jim. He's gonna ask him to meet us for lunch. We can talk about the Judge's information then." Billy kept his hand on his brother's shoulder, hurting for him.

"Okay," Nick said, still not moving. He quietly considered his feelings. He should be happy the Judge had sent Billy away to protect him; happy Billy had his father's love. And really, did he **need** the Judge to care about him? After all, he had Jim, Maria, Billy, Mandy, Ashley, Catherine and a lot more people who cared about him. He took a deep breath, pulling all the hurt in. Then he blew it out slowly, blowing the hurt away with his breath. When he finally moved from the door, his face was calm and composed, his eyes free of the pain.

"Nick?" Billy looked at him anxiously.

"I'm ok, bro," Nick said. "Really," he reassured them as both Billy and Brian looked at him skeptically. "I've got my family. I don't need him. Let's go meet Jim."

* * *

A/N: No, I didn't forget about this story. I just got caught up in another that I was writing at the same time. I'm glad I finally got back to this. I'll try to continue to update routinely.


	5. Chapter 5

FF_992224_ 1/31/2010

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

* * *

"_I'm ok, bro," Nick said. "Really," he reassured them as both Billy and Brian looked at him skeptically. "I've got my family. I don't need him. Let's go meet Jim."_

Brass looked tired when he came up tot the three waiting at the café on campus for him. Any complaints he had at being woken early died when he saw their serious expressions. Waving for a cup of coffee, he joined them.

"So what's up?" he asked, searching their expressions.

"I got a call from the Judge this mornin'," Nick said softly.

Brass looked at him sharply. "What did he want?" he asked. He'd noticed Nick's drawl was a little more pronounced. So no matter how composed he was now, he'd been upset by the call.

"He had some information to pass on," Nick replied. He gave a tired smile. "He says he got word that Craig Miller got his hands on ten pounds of semtex."

"Shit, semtex? Is he sure?" Brass asked.

"No, he's not. But he did confirm that Camp Pendleton lost ten pounds." Nick looked at Billy. "I figure you can look from this side and I'll get the Navy to look from the other end."

"Don't look at me, bro," Billy held his hands up. "That's way beyond my pay grade."

"I know," Nick smiled, "you're just a lowly captain. I thought I'd call Johnny."

"Johnny?" Brian asked.

"That would be Admiral John Banks," Billy answered. "He and Nick are good friends."

"Yeah," Jim smirked at Billy, "How come you don't have any friends in high places?"

"I don't need any," Billy smirked back. "I got Nick."

Brian laughed and looked at Nick to see how he was taking the ribbing. He got concerned when he saw Nick sitting with his head down, his hands clenched on the edge of the table. "Nick?" he asked softly. He got no response. "Nick?" he said again, his anxiety causing his voice to raise. This caught the other two's attention.

"Nick?" Billy reached out and touched Nick's arm. He swore when he felt his brother trembling. He looked up into Nick's face. Everything was clenched against the pain. His eyes were closed tightly, but tears still tracked down his face. His teeth were ground together so tightly, his lips were forced into a grimace.

Billy looked at Brian. Brian was already pulling his keys from his pocket. He handed them to Billy and said, "The wheelchair's in the trunk."

Billy nodded and took off. Brass got up and went to find the waitress to get their lunches to go. Brian pulled out Nick's medication but before he could open it, he saw Nick's minute head shake. Looking at Nick's face, Brian saw him swallow heavily even though his mouth stayed clamped tightly shut. He knew then that Nick was fighting nausea as well as pain.

"Hang on, Nick," he said softly. "We'll get you home quickly." He pulled out his phone and called Nick's office. He told Judy that Nick wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be back that afternoon. Judy told him she'd take care of anything that came up.

Brass came back with the wheelchair, Billy trailing behind. While he got the chair ready, Billy and Brian gently covered Nick's clenched hands with their own. They heard Nick huff air out: once, twice, three times. Then his hands loosened from the table, turned and clamped onto theirs. They both took deep breaths as they felt his hands grip theirs tightly.

Exchanging glances, they took another deep breath. Using their free hands to support Nick's elbows, they levered him from the chair. Brian and Billy were carrying most of his weight as they transferred him to the wheelchair. It took another few minutes for Nick to release their hands and latch on to the arms of the wheelchair.

Billy returned the keys to Brian and took the handles of the wheelchair. "Let's get you to the car, bro," he murmured quietly to Nick.

Nick was keeping his eyes closed and his hands clamped tightly to the chair. The pain was the worst he'd ever experienced. His vision was only the white-hot light of pain. His stomach was roiling and his mouth was pressed tightly closed as much to keep from vomiting as to keep his expressions of agony inside. His hands on the chair were his only points of stability from the tornado of pain and nausea he felt. Nick kept his chin on his chest, hoping to shield some of his pain from the other diners.

He was only partially successful. The arrival of the wheel chair and Nick's movement into it, caught the attention of the diners around them. Brass heard the whispers start and glared at those responsible. The whispers and looks stopped abruptly.

Brass nodded for Billy to go ahead. Brian walked next to the chair and Brass followed after them. Billy struggled to keep from wincing every time the chair was jostled due to the uneven pavement, thresholds in the doorways, or just his own inexpert handling of the chair that caused Nick to moan or whimper in agony.

When they reached the car Billy'd left at the front door, Billy locked the chair in place and moved to Nick's side opposite Brian. A soft "Nick," from the officer told Nick he needed to force his suffering body to move again. He again grabbed their hands and let them lift him from the chair. He focused on keeping his body upright and let the others move him where he needed to go.

Billy cringed when his awkward movements to help Nick into the front seat caused a strangled groan. He leaned against the car, his eyes closed against his tears, as Brian finished easing Nick into the seat and buckled his seatbelt.

Brian rested a hand on Billy's shoulder for a moment, then moved around the car to the trunk. After replacing the wheelchair, Brian closed the trunk and continued to the driver's seat. Billy moved to his own car and got in. He sat there for a moment – his head resting on the steering wheel before forcing himself to start the car and follow Nick home.

The ride home was silent, except when Brian radioed ahead to the UNLV Security Officer at Nick's house and asked him to open the house and be ready to help Nick inside. Nick kept his eyes closed; his head back against the head rest. His left hand was clenched into a fist, his short nails cutting into his palm. His right hand clutched the armrest on the door. He was unable to control the agitated tapping of his right foot or the moans that broke free at irregular intervals. The tears of pain continued to slide unheeded down his cheeks, dripping onto his shirt.

Brian shot him concerned glances at every opportunity. He'd never seen the pain hit this fast or this hard before. He silently cursed the Judge and his decision to contact Nick directly.

And then they were home. Brian parked the car as UNLV Officer Steve Norton made his way to the driveway. He gestured at the trunk, silently asking if Brian wanted the chair. Brian shook his head and waved him around to Nick's side. He didn't want to waste any time getting Nick inside.

By the time Billy arrived, Brian and Steve were practically carrying Nick to the house between them, his arms across their shoulders. Billy sprang to the door and opened it so they didn't have to slow down. When they got to the doorway of Nick's bedroom, he pulled his arm from Steve's shoulder and put it on the doorframe to stop.

Brian felt the resistance and looked over to see what happened. Seeing Nick's hand on the doorframe, he stopped. After looking at Nick's closed expression he told the young UNLV Officer, "It's ok, I've got him now." He stood there, supporting Nick until the officer made his way back to the living room.

Before Brian realized what he was doing, Nick slipped his arm from his shoulder also. A push off the doorframe, into a turn, put him on the other side of the threshold. Brian only got a brief glimpse of his tight, closed expression before the door was closed in his face. The click of the lock startled him from his shock.

"Nick," he called urgently. "Nick, let us help you." He rattled the doorknob. It wasn't budging.

Billy moved down the hall to Brian's side, asking, "What is it? Where's Nick?"

"In there," Brian gestured. "He locked me out."

Billy swore softly. He rested his head on the door, wondering if there was a way to get his brother to open it. Unfortunately, he knew Nick too well to expect him to let them in, either figuratively or literally.

Nick forced his body to move toward the bedside table, using the walls and furniture to keep himself upright, dragging his useless left leg. Finally arriving, he opened the drawer, desperately searching for the vicodin he'd left there for just these situations. It wasn't there.

He moaned with frustration, but forged on to the bathroom, hoping Maria had just moved it to the medicine cabinet. No such luck. Not only was the vicodin gone, but his backup bottle of muscle relaxers was gone also. The strongest pain relief he had available was Extra-Strength Tylenol. Forcing the sobs back, Nick grabbed the bottle and made the torturous journey back to his bed.

Once there, he set the bottle on the table, then couldn't control the nausea any more. Violently heaving in to the trashcan, Nick closed his eyes and yearned for oblivion. It didn't come. When his stomach convulsions finally stopped, Nick was on his hands and knees next to the bed.

Looking up, he knew he'd never make it. He grabbed a tissue from the table and wiped his mouth. Thanking his habit of keeping a full bottle of water next to the bed, Nick saw there was one unopened bottle as well as the two-thirds full one he'd opened just this morning. Nick rinsed he mouth first, then swallowed four Tylenols with two big gulps of water. Finally, he reached up and dragged a pillow and a blanket from the bed, then curled into a ball on the floor, pressing his mouth into the pillow to muffle his moans. He thought, dumbly, that he should have run out of tears by now, but they continued, unabated, now flowing onto the pillow instead of his shirt.

Brian and Billy were still outside his door, arguing about their next move when Brass arrived with the food. After being informed of the situation, he asked a single question, "Did you hear any bangs or thuds?"

When they responded in the negative, he remarked, "Then he hasn't fallen or collapsed." Seeing the relief on their faces, he was about to suggest they eat lunch, then come back and deal with their stubborn friend when Maria swept in.

"Where is he?" she demanded. At Brass's raised brow, she explained, "I convinced Judy to call me whenever Nick was hurting enough to go home. Now where is he?"

Brian gestured at the door.

"You left him alone?" she questioned, her expression of concern edging toward anger.

"He locked us out," Brian replied, defensively. "We had no choice."

Concern and anger warred for a moment on Maria's face before concern won out. "Nick?" she called, knocking loudly. "Nick, are you all right?" When there was no answer, she knocked again. "Nick, answer me! Let me know you're ok or I'll have them force the door open!"

Nick just wanted to be left alone. He didn't have the strength to deal with anyone else's fears or concern, not even Maria's. He banged his tightly clenched fist against the night table.

Brass and the others heard the thump. Brass spoke up, not wanting the situation to escalate further, "Like in the building, Nick, one for yes and two for no. Are you ok?" They all heard another thump as Nick hit the night table again. "Do you need anything?" Two thumps were Nick's answer. He didn't want **anyone** to see him like this. "Will you let us know if you do?" Nick gave them what they wanted to hear, an affirmative response. He knew, though, that he wouldn't be asking for anything until the pain died and he could function semi-normally again.

Nick didn't hear what Jim responded because a flood of pain swept over him and he shoved the pillow into his mouth to muffle his cries. It was quiet outside his door when the pain died a little and Nick could see and hear again. He moaned in misery as he vomited up the pills and water he'd just swallowed. After rinsing his mouth out again and taking just a sip of water, Nick laid his head on the floor and resigned himself to riding out the pain, unaided by medication. He prayed it wouldn't take long.

It was three hours later before he was able to force himself from the floor. After getting a small drink to wash the taste of cloth out of his mouth, he moved slowly and carefully to the closet, again using the furniture and walls for stability. Opening the closet door, Nick stared hard at the object inside. He'd never wanted to need it again. The wheelchair was temporary. But this – this could be semi-permanent. Nick slowly pulled the walker from the closet. He knew he'd never make it to the kitchen without it. The muscles in his left leg were still twisted with cramps, though not as bad as earlier. Nick knew he'd end up on the floor if he tried to rely on it too soon

He sighed and ran his right hand through his hair. His left was gripping the walker for balance. Then he scrubbed his hands over his eyes, one at a time, one hand always on the walker for stability. Finally, Nick pulled at his clothes, trying to straighten them, before releasing another heavy sigh as he prepared to face the situation he'd created.

Even with the walker, Nick was trembling slightly by the time he shuffled into the kitchen. He was surprised to see just Jim and Billy.

Brass looked up and just managed to contain his cry of shock at the condition Nick was in. His expression flickered but returned to neutral. Nick's eyes were sunken and surrounded by heavy circles; the lines of pain carved deeply into his face. His hair was damp with sweat and tracks from his tears sat starkly on his cheeks.

Billy couldn't contain his exclamation, "Nick! Are you ok?" His face twisted with distress.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Nick's voice was a hoarse whisper that was left after his hours of muffled cries. "Where is everyone?"

"I sent Kent home and Billy convinced Maria to go back to work," Brass said. When Nick began to ask, Brass interrupted, "I took a personal day."

Nick nodded then simply said, "I need my muscle relaxers." He looked at Brass and waited. He didn't know whether Brass and Billy had anything to do with his missing medication, but he figured this was the best way to find out.

Brass immediately pulled out the bottle and gave it to him. From Billy's lack of objections, Nick figured neither he nor Jim had anything to do with the medicine disappearing.

"Thanks," he whispered and turned to make the long trek back to his bedroom.

"Nick, Maria was very upset about the locked door," Brass said quietly. He saw Nick stiffen, but he continued on without any more reaction.

When he got back to the bedroom, Nick took two pills and put the bottle on the night table. Lying on the bed, Nick closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

He rested for two hours, but never quite got to sleep. His eyes opened when he heard the knock on his door. He'd closed, but not locked the door this time. Nick pushed himself up in the bed and called, "Come in."

Maria pushed the door open and came in. She moved across the room and sat on the edge of their bed. "How are you doing, Nick?"

"Fine," Nick said, "I'm fine." His voice was still hoarse, but not quite a whisper any more.

"Nick…" Maria looked disappointed at his evasion.

"Maria, I need my medications," Nick said quietly. He just looked at her when she flinched.

"What… what are you talking about?" she turned her head away.

"Maria, I **need** them," Nick said firmly.

Maria didn't look at him for a long moment. Nick just waited quietly, his eyes on her face.

Finally she replied, a hint of embarrassment and shame on her features when she met his gaze, "It was for your own good."

Nick was baffled. "Why?" he insisted, reaching out to touch her arm.

Maria looked away again and didn't reply.

"Why?" Nick asked again. "I'm not a child. I'm not incapacitated. I'm not a danger to myself or anyone else. So why can't you trust me with my meds?"

Maria still didn't answer.

Nick didn't know what to do. He didn't want to face another episode like today without the vicodin, but he couldn't **force** Maria to return them.

Finally, he broke the tense silence again to say, "Maria, I'm sorry, but if you won't return them, I'll have to go back to my doctors and ask for new prescriptions. I won't lie if they ask why. How big a deal do you want this to be?"

Maria looked at him, but didn't respond in any other way.

Nick thought hard. He couldn't find any reason for Maria to be acting this way. Unless… "Maria, do you love me?" His eyes didn't leave her face. He didn't miss the nearly imperceptible flinch. "Do you love me or are you tryin' to fix me?"

Maria turned her head away. She started rummaging in her purse. Nick flinched when she tossed his medicine bottles on to the bed next to him. He just watched dully as she moved to the closet and pulled out a suitcase.

Quickly packing enough for several days, Maria turned and said, "I'll come back for the rest."

Nick didn't understand. Just like that she was leaving him? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. "Maria, what are you doin'?" he asked. "Where are you goin'?"

Maria paused as she came out of the bathroom with her toiletries. "I need some time to think," she replied. "I'll stay with Catherine for a few days."

Nick didn't know what to say except, "You know I love you, right?" his voice hesitant and unsteady.

"Locking me out wasn't the best way to show me," she replied, anger coloring her voice. She stood straight, next to her suitcase, ready to go.

"I didn't lock **you** out," Nick said stubbornly. "I locked **everyone** out." He met her gaze directly. "I didn't want **anyone** to see me like that. No one should have to see or listen to me when the pain's that bad." He met her eyes. "That isn't gonna change. My pain is **private**." He interrupted when she began to say something. "Don't tell me couples don't have things they keep private."

Maria just stared at him.

"Please, Maria…" Nick's voice trailed off when Maria shook her head.

"Goodbye, Nick," she said as she walked out the door.

"Maria, tell Brass where you're goin' at least, please," Nick called after her. She didn't respond. He wanted to beg her to come back, but the words wouldn't come. He felt the tears prick his eyes. He took a deep breath and forced the tears back.

He didn't understand any of it. He didn't understand why Maria had taken his pain medication. He didn't understand why she couldn't see that he was trying to protect her from his pain. And he didn't understand how she could just walk away like that.

Nick's thoughts continued to whirl. They went around and around with no solution. He curled into a ball on the bed fighting his tears. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't anyone love him? He lost his battle against the tears.

Brass was surprised when Maria came back out ten minutes after she went in to the bedroom. The suitcase shocked him. He didn't let it show though. "Going somewhere?" he inquired casually.

"I am spending a few days with Catherine," Maria replied. "Nick asked me to let you know." Before Brass could ask anything else, Maria picked up her suitcase and left.

Pat Tucker passed her on the porch. His greeting went unanswered, so he turned and watched her leave before entering the house.

"Where's Maria goin'?" he asked, looking from Brass to Billy.

"Catherine's," was Brass's short reply.

"Why?" Pat was confused.

"I'm not sure," Brass was concerned. "I'm gonna check on Nicky."

Before he could do that, his cell phone rang. It was Catherine. "What's going on, Jim? Maria just called to see if she can stay with me for a few days. What happened?"

Brass quickly explained the phone call from the Judge and the incident in the café. "I know Maria was upset when Nick locked the door, but he locked **all** of us out. I don't know what happened between the two of them in the bedroom this evening." Brass thought for a moment. "There was one more thing that was unusual," he said slowly.

"What?" Catherine asked.

"When he came out of his room a couple of hours ago, he asked me for his muscle relaxers," Jim replied. His tone was still slow, musing.

"Why is that unusual?" Catherine asked.

"Well, I didn't think anything of it at the time," Jim's voice was edging towards concerned, "but Nick keeps a bottle of the muscle relaxers and one of vicodin in his room. They were both filled just a couple days ago. Why would he need to ask me, unless…"

"Unless they weren't there," Catherine finished for him.

"Yeah," He was quiet a moment. "Do you think Maria would take his pills?"

"If she thought she was helping?" Catherine mused. "Yeah, in a heartbeat."

"And if she didn't talk with Nick about it first…" Jim said slowly. "We didn't hear any yelling."

"Which means he probably bottled it all inside," Catherine said. She sighed heavily. "Well, I've got Maria. I'll try to work on her. You get ole stubborn there."

"Yeah," Jim grimaced. "I'll let ya know how that goes."

Nick's thoughts were a tangled mess. He kept coming back to the unanswered question of what it was about him that made everyone leave him. Why couldn't anyone love him like he was? The longer he lay there, the deeper he fell into the pit of depression and self-pity. He was heading towards self-loathing when he realized it.

He forced his thoughts to a stop. Wiping his cheeks, he slowly sat up and took inventory. His eyes were swollen, his nose running. His throat was still sore from screaming earlier. His leg throbbed, but it was an aching pain, not the sharp pain of the cramps. He could move, but he'd need his walker. Nick winced. Oh, well, he'd survive.

Using the hateful walker, Nick moved slowly into the bathroom. He flinched when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Keeping his eyes away from that 'refugees-or-us' image, Nick washed his face and brushed his teeth. Rinsing his mouth out, he pulled his determination around himself like a wall. Heading down the hall, he heard the murmur of Jim on his cell phone. He knew that was why he'd been left alone as long as he had. He was glad no one had found him mired in his self-pity. He had people who cared about him. If Maria wasn't one of them…? Well, he'd survive. It'd hurt, but he'd survive.

Jim hung up before Nick reached the living room, but Nick had an idea who he'd probably been speaking to: Catherine. He wasn't going to go there, though.

Pat inhaled sharply when he saw Nick's ravaged face, but didn't say anything.

Billy put a tentative hand on Nick's shoulder. "We're just thinkin' about dinner. You hungry?"

"No, man," Nick replied, his voice still hoarse. "Y'all go ahead, though." He glanced quickly at their faces. "D'ya think y'all can get a poker game together? I need people around me tonight."

"Sure, Nick," Jim said. He looked at Pat. "Got any ideas who's free?"

"Mitch is off tonight," Pat replied. "What about Brian and Vartann?"

"I can get Brian here, but I think Alex is working tonight." Brass said thoughtfully.

"I'll call anyway. He should be up by now." Pat and Brass moved into the kitchen to make their calls while Billy waved Nick to a seat.

"Take a load off, bro," he said quietly. "I'll order pizza when we know how many. You need anythin' now?"

Nick shook his head and settled onto his usual recliner. Then he reconsidered. "Bottle of water?" he asked.

"You got it, bro," Billy moved into the kitchen to get the bottle from the fridge. Brass was finished with his call and rummaging for a beer. Billy asked for another beer and a water.

"Grab me a water, too," Pat said, closing his cell phone.

Brass did, then asked, "Well?"

"Mitch is pickin' up some beer and headin' over. Alex says Curtis owes him one. He says she's not doin' anythin' tonight, so he'll give her a call. He'll only let me know if he **can't** make it."

Returning to the living room, they let Nick know who was coming. Settling around the room, they watched the game Nick had on and relaxed until the others got there.

If the others were surprised by Nick's appearance or the walker, they hid it well. By 7:30, the poker game was in full-swing in the dining room and the pizzas and snacks were set up in the kitchen. When the knock came at the door, it was Pat who answered.

"I understand there's a party going on here," Greg Sanders grinned at him. "It's a slow night, and Sophia told us why she switched with Alex, so Cath let me go. I am on call, though."

Pat smiled and let him in.

If Nick wanted something to keep him distracted from Maria and his negative thoughts, he succeeded. The hours flowed. While Nick was not the center of the party, he did smile and laugh at the jokes flying around the room.

After three hours, Nick was exhausted. He knew he needed to rest, but he was afraid – afraid he wouldn't be able to sleep. So he kept playing until the cards blurred in his sight, another hour and a half. And his friends let him. He wasn't oblivious to the looks of concern, though. He just ignored them.

Finally, Nick looked over at Pat who was sitting this hand out, and said, "Give an old man a hand?"

Pat laughed and helped Nick to his feet. Following him back to his bedroom, he helped him undress for bed. Pat felt a sense of deja vue, having done this several times in Texas when they were kids.

He noticed the rigid muscles in Nick's left leg and asked, "Nick, you want the muscle relaxers? Jim said you took some about four. It's been eight hours."

Nick thought for a moment. He knew tomorrow morning was going to be rough. The muscle relaxers would help with that. Finally he nodded. He had to do what **he** thought was right. He couldn't let Maria's doubts cause him to second-guess himself.

* * *

A/N: Knock, knock - Anyone there? Didn't get any reviews for the last chapter. Lots of hits - no reviews. Was it that bad? Let me know. Thx


	6. Chapter 6

FF_992224_ 2/28/2010

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

A/N: Oh, not really a cross-over, but a mention of another series character. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

_He noticed the rigid muscles in Nick's left leg and asked, "Nick, you want the muscle relaxers? Jim said you took some about four. It's been eight hours."_

_Nick thought for a moment. He knew tomorrow morning was going to be rough. The muscle relaxers would help with that. Finally he nodded. He had to do what he thought was right. He couldn't let Maria's doubts cause him to second-guess himself._

It didn't take long for Nick to fall asleep after taking the pills. Nick told Pat to let the others know they were welcome to stay as long as they wanted. So the game continued another couple of hours before it broke up.

"Do you think we helped?" Mitch asked as he was getting ready to leave.

"Definitely," Billy said. "He smiled. He laughed. That's definitely good."

Pat stopped everyone before they left. Looking at Brass he asked, "You want to tell us what happened?"

Brass told the story again. He let Billy and Brian explain the telephone call from the Judge. Brian explained about the semtex. Bill's voice was strained when he explained what the Judge told Nick about their meeting when he was arrested. Brass winced when he heard of the Judge's declaration of love for _**his**_ _**son**_. There was silence after he explained his and Catherine's speculations about Maria and Nick's medications.

"Oh," Pat said slowly and thoughtfully.

"What?" Billy asked.

Looking up, Pat saw all their eyes on him. "Well, when I was helpin' him get ready for bed, I saw three medicine bottles on the nightstand. Nick saw what I was lookin' at and gave me one. It was his muscle relaxers." Pat looked at Brass. "He said to tell ya thanks." He looked around the room. "Why would Maria take his medication?"

"I don't know," Brass replied.

"Did you check her for any connections to Craig Miller?" Billy asked slowly.

He heard several indrawn breaths. Brass looked at him sharply. "I did a little checking," he admitted quietly. "But after seeing her with Nick, I figured it was a dead end."

"Maybe we better start lookin' again," Pat said softly, reluctantly.

Brass nodded mutely.

"If Nick finds out, he won't be happy," Brian said quietly.

"D'ya think we should leave it alone?" Billy asked, concerned and a little angry. "You _**saw**_ how much pain he was in! He _**needed**_ the vicodin! Why would she take them? He _**never**_ showed any signs of abusin' 'em!"

"I know," Brian sighed. "And I want to know if she's involved just as much as you do. But we're gonna have to be prepared for Nick's reaction." He looked around the group. "And trust me; he'll have a major reaction."

"Yeah," Brass said shortly. "But if it keeps him safe, it's worth it."

The group broke up quickly after that.

Nick was right, waking up was hard. His leg cramped as he tried to stretch it out before he remembered the events of the previous day. He managed to transform his cry of pain into a gasp and moan. He waited a moment for the pain to pass, and then tried again, more carefully. This time he felt the ache from the abused muscles, but was spared the sharp stab of the cramp.

He took a deep breath and slid to the edge of the bed. Nick stared at the medicine bottles on the night table for a moment. He sighed quietly. His hand shook slightly as he reached for the muscle relaxers. He knew he wouldn't be able to get through the day without them. After fumbling with the cap, he took two pills and washed them down with the water from the bottle next to his bed.

Nick grabbed the walker and reached for his dresser. He grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt. Dressing as quickly as he could, he checked the alarm clock next to his bed. He winced when he saw the 7:56 it displayed. He slowly made his way into the kitchen.

Billy, Bras and Pat sat around the table eating.

"Mornin'," Nick said. His voice was still hoarse. He sat down at the table. Dragging a hand through his hair, he stared into space. He moved his eyes to stare dully at the plate Billy put in front of him: scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. He wasn't hungry. He was very aware, however, that if he didn't at least _**try**_ to eat, all three of the men sitting with him would start fussing.

"Thanks, Billy," he muttered. He picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of the eggs. Putting it in his mouth, he forced himself to chew and swallow. Picking up the bacon, he took a small bite. Again he chewed and swallowed. He closed his eyes. He didn't want any more. But he knew it wasn't enough to satisfy those watching him.

Opening his eyes, he took one slice of toast and put two pieces of bacon on it. After adding some eggs, he folded the toast in half and took a bite. He still wasn't hungry and didn't want it, but he figured he could handle this much. After he finished his sandwich, Nick pushed his plate away.

"Nick," Billy protested.

"I'm doin' the best I can, bro," Nick replied. "I know what you're gonna say and I appreciate your concern. But I can't handle any more right now."

Billy put his hand on Nick's shoulder. "All right, bro," he gave in, "but promise me you'll eat regular meals."

"I promise," Nick met Billy's eyes. Billy nodded when he saw Nick was sincere.

"Good morning," Mitch greeted as he came into the kitchen. "Nick, Bri's taking the day off, but he'll be back tomorrow."

Nick nodded. He let Brian and the others worry about their schedules.

Pat pulled Nick's medicine from his pocket and passed it to Mitch. "Nick, I'll be back tonight."

"Get some rest, Pat," Nick said.

Pat pointed at Nick, "Pot." He pointed at himself, "Kettle. You know the rest."

Nick laughed. "Point taken," he said. "I'll rest this mornin' and go into the office this afternoon."

Billy started to object, but Mitch intervened. "Only if I decide when it's time to leave," he said. He kept his eyes fixed on Nick.

Nick met his gaze. He saw the concern and resolve in Mitch's eyes. "Ok," Nick conceded.

Mitch nodded and said, "I'll set your laptop up in the living room. You can work on your speech this morning."

"Thanks, Mitch," Nick was glad Mitch realized he wouldn't be resting without _**some**_ thing to do. "I have to make a phone call first." Taking his cell phone, he scrolled through the contacts and completed the call.

"This is Nick Stokes for Admiral Banks," he said when the call completed.

"One moment, Dr. Stokes. I'll just let the Admiral know you're there," was the Admiral's Assistant's response.

Nick waited for a few moments and then smiled when he heard Johnny's voice on the other end. "Nicky, my boy!" Johnny exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I'm hangin' in there," Nick said. "You?"

"I can't complain," Johnny said, "except that I haven't heard from you in a while."

"Yeah, well, I figured Billy and Pat were keepin' ya up to date." Nick flinched and grinned when Billy smacked his arm.

"That's not the same and you know it," Johnny returned. Nick could hear the smile in his voice. "So what couldn't wait for the Pony Express?"

"I understand y'all're missin' about ten pounds of semtex," Nick said, his tone becoming serious.

"And how do you know about that?" Johnny asked.

"The Judge called…" Nick began. He paused when Johnny growled, deep in his throat. "Y'all sound just like Billy. D'ya realize that?"

"So what made the 'Honorable' William Stokes break his promise?" Johnny asked sarcastically.

"Two things," Nick ignored the sarcasm. "First, he's dyin' – pancreatic cancer."

He plainly heard Johnny's, "Good!" over the shocked silence in his kitchen. He quickly thought back and realized they'd never told Brass about that part of the call because of his 'episode'. He met Billy's eyes. Billy shrugged apologetically.

"Johnny," Nick admonished, shrugging back at his brother.

"He deserves it," Johnny said, fiercely.

"That's what he said," Nick replied. There was a thoughtful silence from the other end. "The second reason he called was because he got word that Craig Miller got his hands on ten pounds of semtex."

"Did he confirm that?" Johnny asked

"No, but he did confirm that y'all lost ten pounds," Nick replied. "I thought you'd like to know it might be here."

There was silence from the other end. Nick sighed heavily. "Don't even think about gettin' on a plane," he said forcefully. "I already got a detective captain, an LVPD uniformed officer, a SEAL and a UNLV security guard hangin' around. I don't need an Admiral."

"Do you have an extra ticket to that shindig you've got going on next week?" Johnny asked.

Nick sighed again, but not as heavily. "Yeah, I can scrape one up. Y'all want to come?"

"It would settle my mind," Johnny replied.

"Anything to settle your mind," Nick sniped. He heard Johnny snort. "What about the semtex?"

"There's already an NCIS team on it at this end. One of the best: Jethro Gibbs." Johnny said. He was silent for a few minutes, considering. "I could send you another agent from LA."

"Why don't you wait to see if there's something for him to investigate here, first." Nick replied. "My house is already crowded. I don't need any more visitors."

"Who's going to be working it on your end?" Johnny asked.

"Jim's gonna look into it," Nick replied.

"Ok, but if he finds something, I expect to be kept in the loop. And I reserve the right to call in the agents if you find anything." Johnny was serious. "Another thing, if I think you need more protection, I'll send it. I don't care if you're hip deep in LVPD, UNLV, or any other letters of the alphabet."

"Johnny, I'm fine. I'm safe," Nick soothed. "There are people here who are as concerned about that as you, you know." His eyes met Billy's. "Besides, Billy's here."

"I rest my case," Johnny said, smiling. Before Nick could say anything, he continued, "Ok, ok, I know. You're secure, you're safe. I'm still coming to your shindig next week."

"It'll be good to see you," Nick said softly. Before saying anything more, he got up and went into the living room. He wanted to talk to Johnny privately. "Johnny, Maria left me. She took my medicine the other day, my vicodin and muscle relaxers. I had an attack after the Judge called. It was bad." Nick didn't speak for a moment. "When I got back to the house, my medicine was gone. Maria had it. She said she took it for my 'own good'." Nick paused again.

"I can't figure out why she did it. I _**needed**_ that medicine yesterday." Nick felt tears well in his eyes. "I mean, I even seriously considered bangin' my head against the floor until I lost consciousness. I'm not sure how I got through it. So, how could she do that to me? And when I called her on it, when I asked her why, all I got is the 'for your own good' line. When I asked her if she loved me, she flinched. Then she gave me the medicine back and left. She said she was gonna spend a couple days with Catherine. She said she had some thinkin' to do." Nick fell silent, thinking about what he'd said.

"Nick, there's something you need to consider," Johnny said slowly. "What if Maria was working with Craig Miller? What if she took your medicine so just you would be in pain?"

Nick closed his eyes. It was what he'd just begun thinking about. "I don't…" he whispered. "I don't want to believe that."

"Someone needs to check it out," Johnny suggested, gently.

"Why can't…" Nick couldn't continue. His eyes filled. He curled into a ball, fighting to hold on to his composure. "Is it too much to ask to have someone special who really cares about me? Someone who loves me? Why…?" Nick's voice faded. He knew he was feeling sorry for himself. He felt overwhelmed.

"It's going to be ok, Nick," Johnny's voice flowed over him. "It's going to be ok, Nicky. Just because you have to consider the worst, doesn't mean that it's the truth. Jim and I will look into it and find out the truth. For all we know, Maria had a family member commit suicide with vicodin, and she freaked out when she saw it on your nightstand." Johnny kept his voice gentle, but his hands clenched. He swore to himself that if Maria _**was**_ working with Craig Miller, he'd deal with her himself.

Nick took a deep breath… and another. After taking a third deep breath, he said quietly, "Ok, the pity party is officially over. If y'all are comin' next week, I'm gonna have to have a great speech. So I guess I'd better work on it. Thanks for listenin' Johnny. I needed…" he let his voice trail off.

"You know you don't need to thank me for that," Johnny admonished him. "You're family. I'll always be here for you."

"I know," Nick's voice was hoarse with emotion. "Now, it's time to get back to work."

"Don't work _**too**_ hard," Johnny smiled. "I'll see you next week."

"Yeah, just let someone know when y'all are comin' in. Do you need a place to stay?"

"No," Johnny said, "I'll get a room. I don't want you to cramp my style."

Nick laughed. "God forbid I do that!" he said. "See ya'll."

"Goodbye," Johnny said. He quickly put together an e-mail to NCIS Special Agent Gibbs regarding the potential new direction in the search for the missing semtex. He included Jim Brass's contact information and a request to be kept informed. He made sure Gibbs knew that the potential Las Vegas target was a personal friend of his. Then he went back to his routine day.

Nick sat back on the sofa and tried to regroup. Mitch had set his computer up for him and even opened the file containing his speech. He re-read what he'd already written to in order to focus on the task at hand. It was a struggle at first to concentrate, but once he got into it, it filled his mind. His focus was so complete, he was surprised when Mitch came in with a sandwich for his lunch. He insisted Mitch and Billy join him in the living room.

Brass was sleeping in the guest room. He was going in for his normal shift that night, but didn't want to leave Nick alone. Not that Nick was alone, but Brass felt Nick needed all the support he could get right now. And if that meant having dinner and breakfast with him before and after his shift, that's what Brass would do.

Quiet conversation filtered through the living room as the three men ate. Nick didn't say much, but he did contribute now and again. He participated enough to keep the other two from worrying too much about him. They knew that he'd be quiet with everything going on. But the fact that he wasn't shutting them out was a good sign. When they were finished, Mitch gathered the dishes and took them into the kitchen. Nick began packing his computer up to go into the office. Billy gave him a hand.

When the doorbell rang, Billy called out to Mitch that he had it. A smile lit up his face when he saw who was on the other side. "Hey, bro, y'all got a visitor," he said, opening the door wide.

Nick looked up from his packing and a smile filled his face as well. "Cassie!" he exclaimed. "What're y'all doin' here?"

"You forgot!" the girl exclaimed. "You forgot that today was the day!"

Nick looked ashamed. "You're right, darlin'. I did forget." He looked up at the woman who'd followed Cassie in. "Did everything go ok in court today?"

Sage smiled at him fondly. "Everything went fine; just like you explained. Cassie is officially my daughter." She looked at the fourteen year-old. "Cassie, Uncle Nick's been a little busy. He would have remembered."

Cassie looked at Nick, her expression serious. "I wanted to come see you sooner, but Sage said I should wait until today to give you time to recover."

Nick held out his hand and Cassie took it. He pulled her in close for a quick hug. There were tears in her eyes and he gently brushed them away. "I'm fine, darlin'."

"You're using your walker," Cassie said, her eyes worried.

Nick sighed, but didn't look away. He'd promised Cassie he wouldn't lie to her back when he originally met her, and he wasn't going to break that promise now. But it was hard to talk about his physical difficulties. "I get cramps, darlin'. They make it hard to walk without the walker some times."

"Will they go away?" Cassie asked, her eyes locked on Nick's.

"No, darlin'. Not unless I stop tryin' to walk." Nick didn't break the eye contact.

Cassie sighed. "That sucks," she said.

"Cassie!" Sage exclaimed.

"Sorry, but it does!" Cassie exclaimed.

"I know, but you can find a better way to say it." Sage was fighting to hide her smile.

"Actually I think she said it pretty well," Billy said, an enormous grin on his face.

"Hey, bro, don't encourage her," Nick said. "You're not exactly a shining example for her to copy."

Billy shrugged. "It is what it is. And that sucks," was all he said.

"Uncle Nick, is Aunt Maria at work?" Cassie asked.

Nick froze. He didn't know how to answer that. His pain was written all over his face.

"Uncle Nick?" Cassie whispered. She reached out and touched his face.

Nick turned his cheek into her palm, his eyes closed. He cleared his throat and spoke without opening his eyes. "She's stayin' with Catherine for a few days, sweetie."

"I'm sorry," was all Cassie said. She wanted to ask why Maria had left, but she could see that the subject was painful for Nick. She loved the man who'd saved her life four years ago; she wasn't going to add to his pain if she could help it.

"Nothin' to be sorry for, darlin'," Nick said wearily. "Like Billy said, it is what it is." He raised his head and looked at Cassie. "Besides, we got us some celebratin' to do! It's not every day you get a new mama, and Sage gets a new brat!"

Cassie grinned and shoved him gently. "I thought we agreed that _**you**_ were the brat, Uncle Nicky!"

Nick laughed. He looked over at Mitch. "Change of plans, Mitch. Can you call Judy and let her know I won't be in this afternoon after all? I think lunch and a shoppin' trip are in order to celebrate our new family." He looked at Cassie. "As long as we go to a mall where I can sit and watch y'all shop, that is!"

Cassie laughed again. "If you're paying, I'm sure I can find a place for you to watch me spend your money."

Nick looked at Sage. "You're definitely gonna have trouble with this one, darlin'," he drawled. "She's already getting' mercenary on us and she hasn't even been in the family for twenty-four hours." He fought to keep his face serious, but everyone could see the laughter in his eyes.

Sage laughed. "I think I can handle her. I just take away her computer and phone when she gets too much like you."

"Me?" Nick gasped. "Why everyone knows I'm an innocent 'lil angel," he said, smirking.

Billy snorted. Mitch grinned. And Cassie fell off the couch laughing.

"What? No one believes me?" Nick did his best to look offended. "Maybe we'll have to cancel that shoppin' trip after all."

Cassie sat up and did her best to compose her expression. "Oh, no, Uncle Nicky," she said in an obviously insincere tone. "_**I**_ believe you. Of _**course**_, you're innocent. And I'll tell everyone the same story as long as we get to go shopping after lunch."

Nick laughed. "Ok, ok," he gave in. "That performance definitely earned you lunch." He looked up at Mitch. "Y'all ready?"

"Uh, Nick," Billy interrupted.

"Yeah, bro," Nick responded.

"I kind of have a lunch date," Billy admitted.

Nick grinned. "Let me guess," he said. "You're meetin' Maureen O'Riley at the café on campus."

"Damn it, bro," Billy exclaimed, frowning. "I hate it when you do that!"

Nick laughed. "Go on your date, bro." He looked at Cassie and Sage. "I think I got the best deal, though."

Billy grinned and watched as the group got Nick up and out the door. He heaved a sigh, silently thanking the heavens that Cassie had shown up today. It was just the thing to get Nick's emotional balance back. Cassie was good for him. And he was good for her. Billy was glad Nick hadn't let anyone dissuade him from contacting her after the McBride case was closed. She was just the medicine he needed right now.

He locked up and left to meet Maureen O'Riley.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed.


	7. Chapter 7

FF_992224_ 6/11/2010

A/N - Again I apologize for the delay in posting. It's not that I wasn't working on this, but I'd gotten myself in a corner with Maria and I had to figure out where that whole mess was going. Let me know what you think. Does it make sense?

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

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* * *

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Billy grinned and watched as the group got Nick up and out the door. He heaved a sigh, silently thanking the heavens that Cassie had shown up today. It was just the thing to get Nick's emotional balance back. Cassie was good for him. And he was good for her. Billy was glad Nick hadn't let anyone dissuade him from contacting her after the McBride case was closed. She was just the medicine he needed right now.

_He locked up and left to meet Maureen O'Riley._

Brass woke up slowly. He blinked sleepily as he heard laughter coming from Nick's kitchen. He decided he needed to wake up before he went to discover why the atmosphere of the house was so dramatically different from when he'd gone to sleep.

After a quick shower, he made his way into the kitchen. He smiled when he saw Nick and Cassie working together to make dinner. They were making spaghetti and Cassie was at the stove, giggling at the suggestions Nick was making about seasoning the sauce.

"I saw it in a commercial," Nick insisted. "They really were putting cream cheese in the sauce. Are you _**sure**_ you don't want to do that?"

"I'm sure," Cassie giggled. "That sounds gross."

"Well, what about nutmeg? Rachel Ray always puts a little fresh ground nutmeg in her red sauces." Nick winked at Brass then turned his attention back to Cassie.

"You watch Rachel Ray?" Cassie was laughing out loud, now.

"Hey, 30 Minute Meals! You think I wanna spend any more time than that on meals for this crew?" Nick grinned. "I make Brian watch it with me."

Cassie giggled again, imagining the two of them sitting and watching Rachel Ray together. "Ok, hand me some nutmeg," she said. "I'm not going to argue with Rachel Ray."

Brass watched them, bemused for a moment, before heading into the living room with the rest of the adults. He greeted Sage and asked how things had gone today.

Her face lighting up with laughter, Sage asked, "Do you mean in court? Or are you talking about the shopping trip?"

Bemused again, Brass asked, "Shopping trip?"

"Nick's compensation for forgetting that today was court day," Mitch said dryly. "We all had a _**wonderful**_ time at lunch and shopping."

Brass grinned. The picture in his head of Nick and Mitch trailing Sage and Cassie on a shopping expedition was hysterical. He was sorry he'd missed it. He looked around, missing Billy. "Where's Billy? Did you lose him on the shopping trip?"

"No," Nick's voice came from the doorway. "Billy had a date. He hasn't gotten back yet." Brass smiled at the grin on Nick's face.

"Who'd he go out with?" Brass asked.

"Maureen O'Riley," Nick said with a smirk.

"Maureen O'Riley the Biology Professor at UNLV?" Brass asked.

"The very same," Nick drawled.

"Think he'll make it back tonight?" Brass asked.

"Who?" Billy's voice came from the direction of the door."Y'all wouldn't be concerned about little 'ole me, now would you?"

"Concerned?" Nick asked. "Naw, we weren't concerned; maybe a 'lil amused, though."

Billy laughed. "What's for dinner?"

"I'm helpin' Cassie make spaghetti," Nick answered.

"Shouldn't you be in _**there**_, then, and not out here?" Billy teased.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," Nick said. He moved back into the kitchen.

It wasn't too long before Nick was calling them all in to dinner. The meal flew by with lively talk on a wide variety of subjects. Nick hugged both Sage and Cassie tightly when it was time for them to leave. He moved slowly, thoughtfully to his room. He slept, though it was fitful.

Nick was quiet the next few days. He spoke when spoken to, smiled and even chuckled a couple times, but for the most part, he was silent, contemplative. He worked on his speech and listened to the LVPD and UNLV security arrangements for his event. As the week went on and he didn't hear from Maria, he got even quieter, and his smile was seen less frequently. But he didn't stop – he didn't give up.

And then Johnny arrived. He wasn't staying at the house. Nick's house on campus (the Dean's house), as well as his personal home, were full. Nick's sister Ashley and her husband Roger Grey had come from Dallas with his other sister Amanda and her husband Matt Hancock. They were staying at Nick's Las Vegas home. Brass and Brian were staying with Nick, as well as another LVPD uniformed officer and the UNLV security officer assigned at the time.

Admiral John "Johnny" Banks was a tall, imposing man. His composed face could be called craggy; his iron gray hair was cut short in an obvious military style. His dark eyes were fierce and cold. Brass was reluctantly impressed when he first met him. And then the Admiral saw Nick, and everything that was cold about him melted. Brass saw the genuinely happy and relieved grin that appeared when Nick moved into the room with his cane. The quick stride forward to clasp Nick's hand, and the gentle tug into a hug all showed Johnny's love and affection for Nick.

Nick flashed a smile and returned both the hand shake and hug. "Johnny," he said quietly, "it's good to see ya." The pleasure stayed in his eyes, though the smile quickly faded.

"You, too, Nicky," Johnny sighed. He examined Nick closely. "How are ya sleeping?"

Nick shrugged, easing into "his" chair. "Some nights are good, some – not so much," he admitted quietly. "But I'm hangin' in there."

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Nick said. "I know what I want to say and how I want to say it. I guess we'll see how they take it." He settled into his recliner and watched Johnny take a seat on the couch. They quietly began to catch up, discussing what was going on in each of their lives. Things got a little rowdier when Billy joined them.

"So?" Johnny asked Billy when Nick went to the restroom.

"He's hangin' in there," Billy replied. "Hell, he's doin' a _**lot**_ better than I expected." His eyes were serious when they met Johnny's. "I really don't know how he's gotten through all of this, sir. I just don't see how he's able to take it in stride."

Johnny cocked his head, considering. "He's got a lot of support," he replied. His eyes met Billy's again, concern evident in his gaze. "You're a big part of that, you know." He advised.

Billy nodded without speaking.

"Has anyone made any headway in checking Maria out?" Johnny asked quietly.

"No," it was Nick's voice from the door that replied. "Or rather, they haven't found anything," he clarified.

Johnny examined his face. It was calm and composed. There was no hint that any of this discussion bothered or upset him. That didn't mean that Nick was alright with it, though. He could just be hiding his feelings, believing that they wouldn't matter anyway. And in a way, they wouldn't. Johnny knew that Nick's friends and family would check Maria out whether Nick approved or not. They were determined to do their best to protect him. But that didn't mean that they weren't concerned about how he felt.

"Are you ok with us checking her out?" he asked Nick, bluntly.

A smile flickered on Nick's face. He'd known that Johnny would ask him anything he wanted to know straight out – no beating around the bush or trying to be tactful. It's not that Johnny didn't know how to be tactful or diplomatic – he wouldn't have risen as high in the Navy if he hadn't. But their relationship was such that Johnny knew Nick wouldn't be offended by his bluntness; that he'd actually welcome it after the kid-glove treatment he received from others. He raised an eyebrow at Johnny and asked, "Us?"

Johnny grinned and replied, "Metaphorically us, Nicky. I actually haven't gotten involved, yet."

Nick laughed softly. "Don't think I didn't take note of the 'yet', Johnny." He met Johnny's eyes squarely. "And yes, I'm ok with it. I wish…" he let his voice trail off for a moment and looked away. When he looked back, there was a deep sadness in his eyes. "I wish it didn't have to be this way. But I know it does." He sighed quietly before asking, "Any progress on the semtex?"

"Not yet," Johnny replied. "It's definitely missing. And we are finding indications that it might have headed this way. But there's nothing definitive." He sighed. "Gibbs is still working on it, though."

"He's good, sir?" Billy asked quietly.

"The best," Johnny replied. "If anyone can find that semtex, it's Gibbs."

The conversation turned general after that and it wasn't too long before Nick told them he was going to make a night of it. Nick slept fitfully, waking more than five times. But he knew he needed to be at his best tomorrow, so he did his best to relax and go back to sleep each time. When he woke and the clock read 5:00am, he knew he wouldn't get any more sleep. So he dressed and made his way to the kitchen. He was able to just use his cane this morning.

He found Officer Andy Akers sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning paper. "Hey, Nick," Andy said quietly. His eyes took in the dark circles around Nick's eyes and the tired lines on his face, but he didn't comment. He knew Nick was doing his best. Otherwise he'd have come out one of the other times he'd woken. Andy had checked on him discreetly each time. They both knew it, but neither needed to comment.

"Hey, Andy," Nick responded. "What d'ya want for breakfast?"

"You don't need to cook for me, especially today," Andy said slowly. "You need to keep your focus on your speech."

"Cookin' relaxes me," Nick drawled. "It'll help."

"If you're sure," Andy replied. "Eggs and bacon are fine."

"I'll do scrambled," Nick decided. "They'll keep better for the others." Nick moved around the kitchen, assembling ingredients and pulling out pans. He quickly began dicing potatoes, garlic and peppers for fried potatoes. Once those were started, he began frying the bacon.

The bacon was staying warm in the oven with the potatoes and the eggs were cooking on the stove when Brian and Billy made their way into the kitchen at 6. "Jim's takin' a shower," Billy said, checking to see if the coffee was ready. Andy poured him a cup. "Thanks, man." He looked over at Nick. "All right, bro, you're single-handedly spoilin' it for all us men-folk who can't cook."

Nick laughed, "It's like I told Andy," he said. "Cookin' relaxes me."

Andy looked over, smiling, "He's not kidding. I didn't believe it, but he's definitely more relaxed now than he was when he got up." Andy was happy to see that some of the tired lines on Nick's face had faded and the dark circles were not quite as dark.

Time seemed to move in spurts to Nick. The morning seemed to take forever to get through. He sat with Billy and Brian while they ate, just pushing his own food around on the plate. When Brass came in, Nick flinched at the accusation he saw in his stare. He sighed quietly and forced himself to actually start eating. For a while there, Nick swore the food was increasing on his plate. But he'd finally eaten enough to satisfy his critics.

He sat with his computer in the living room and nervously fiddled with his speech. He changed a word here, a sentence there. Then, looking at it in exasperation, he closed the file without saving any of the changes. Brian looked over at him when he heaved a heavy sigh and closed the computer.

"I need somethin' to _**do**_," he grumbled. "This waitin' around is drivin' me crazy." He kept his eyes from the LVPD officer's. "Maybe I'll go into the office."

"Like hell, you will," Brass contradicted. "Not today."

Nick's hands twisted together. "I'm gonna go crazy without anythin' to do," he complained again.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" Pat Tucker said as he came into the house.

Nick just looked at him, his discontent and frustration evident in his eyes.

"Grumpy, this mornin' are we?" Pat asked, raising his eyebrows.

Nick just glared.

"Well, aren't you lucky that I hate it when you're restless," Pat continued, a small smile on his face. He winced when he saw Nick's expression darkening. "I brought you those papers Frank Riker was tellin' you about – the ones from the graduatin' seniors last year. He thought you might like to read them."

Nick contemplated him silently. It might actually be something that would hold his interest. He nodded, still silently, and held his hand out for the stack of papers Pat was carrying.

"Thank you, God," Billy said, raising his eyes to the heaven.

"You're welcome," Pat said modestly.

Billy snorted and smacked him on the arm.

"I'm just glad _**someone**_ found something to keep him still for five minutes," Brass contributed. "He was starting to drive _**me**_ crazy."

Nick ignored them all and actually found his interest immediately caught in the first paper. His eyes flickered over the words and he found himself smiling or frowning, depending on the author's opinions. He was startled when someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"He always could concentrate," Pat remarked casually.

Nick looked up into Billy's gaze. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

"Lunch time," Billy said, smirking down at him. "We've been tryin' to get your attention for five minutes."

Nick shrugged and smiled. "What can I say, y'all are just not interestin'."

Billy smacked his arm lightly, and then waited for him to get to his feet.

Johnny came by for lunch. It was spent in talk that had nothing to do with missing semtex, Craig Miller, or public speaking. It was just a group of guys sharing a meal.

After lunch, time seemed to just fly. It was time to get ready for his speech before he knew it. Nick took a shower, and looked at himself in the mirror. Some of the stress and exhaustion on his face had faded. He was glad Jim had vetoed the office. He knew he wouldn't be as rested if he'd gone in. He quickly dressed in black jeans, and a blue button up shirt. He wasn't going to pretend to be anything he wasn't. And suits just weren't his style.

Picking up his cane, he moved to the living room. The others were ironing out the seating arrangements for the drive to the auditorium. Nick listened and discovered that Jim would be driving him along with Johnny and Billy. UNLV Security Officers Steve Norton and Bobby Jamison would be in the front car; and Brian and Pat in an LVPD car in the rear. He stood quietly in the doorway and waited for them to notice he was there.

"So where is the man of the hour?" Brass complained. "He's almost as bad as Catherine."

"Hey," Nick said, mock indignantly, "I resemble that remark!"

Everyone laughed. Nick slipped on his black leather jacket and moved toward the door. Steve nodded the all clear and moved out ahead of Nick. Rolling his eyes, Nick suffered through all the rig-a-ma-role the others felt necessary for getting him to the car.

Strangely enough, Nick's nervousness vanished on the way to the auditorium. He sat quietly in the back next to Billy, listening to the verbal fencing going on between Johnny and Jim, smiling to himself.

"Y'all aren't gonna intervene?" Billy whispered, nodding towards the front seat.

"And spoil their fun?" Nick returned, his smile blossoming into a grin. "No way!"

Billy listened for a moment. It did seem like the two men were enjoying their verbal sparring. It wasn't nasty and it wasn't getting personal.

He smiled back at his brother. "Ya know, contrary to popular belief, y'all _**are**_ pretty smart."

Nick choked on the water he was drinking.

Billy grinned wider and pounded his brother on the back.

"Captain," Johnny barked from the front seat.

"Sir," Billy snapped to attention.

Nick could see Brass's grin in the rearview mirror.

"Let's try to keep your brother breathing," Johnny said wryly. "At least until he's given his speech."

"Yes, sir," Billy barked out. He grimaced at his brother's grin, but not until Johnny returned his attention to Jim and their conversation.

Nick was trying to stifle his laughter, but just managed to draw Billy's attention to it. Billy gently shoved Nick, prompting Brass to say, "Now, boys, do I need to separate you?"

Billy answered, "He started it," in a whiney voice.

Nick's laughter rang out through the car. He laughed even harder when he heard Brass's muttered, "Don't think I won't send ya to your room when we get back,"

Catherine was rushing around getting ready for Nick's address. She frowned when she heard sounds of someone crying. She found Lindsey in the living room, ready to go, channel surfing. Frowning again, she followed the sounds of distress to the guest room.

She knocked quietly on the door and waited for Maria's choked, "Come in," to enter. Maria had been very quiet since she'd arrived at Catherine's. They'd been overly busy at the lab, so Catherine hadn't had the chance to speak to Maria about what'd happened with Nick yet.

"Maria?" she asked, approaching the bed where Maria sat with tears running down her face. "Maria, what's wrong?" She laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I've messed everything up," Maria replied without raising her head from her hands. "I promised Nick I'd be at his address tonight, but now I am sure there is no way he wants to see me there."

"Maria, what happened with Nick?" Catherine asked, troubled. Brass hadn't found any indication the young woman had had any contact with Craig Miller or anyone associated with him.

"I got scared," Maria admitted softly.

"Scared?" Catherine still didn't understand.

Maria sighed and looked at Catherine. She was actually surprised the older woman was still allowing her to stay at her house. "I tried to be as strong as Nick, but the car accident terrified me," her tears increased. "I know the easiest way for Miller to hurt Nick is through me and I am so afraid of what he will do."

Catherine's heart went out to the terrified young woman trembling in front of her. She gently squeezed Maria's shoulder. "Oh, sweetie," she said. "Have you talked to Megan?" Megan O'Rourke was Nick's psychiatrist and a friend of Maria's from the hospital.

"She is the one who helped me understand that I was afraid," Maria admitted. "I was so confused. When… when I left Nick," Maria's heart contracted at those words. She still couldn't believe she'd left the man she loved like that. She forced herself to continue, "When I left Nick… all I could think of was getting away." Her hands covered her face again and she wept silently for a few moments.

"I know I hurt him so badly," she wept. "I do not know how to fix this." Maria looked up at Catherine. "I do not know how he can ever forgive me." Her hands twisted together. "I do not know how I will live without him," she whispered.

Catherine gently rubbed Maria's back. She knew if what Maria was saying was true, Nick would forgive her in a heartbeat. But one thing was still bothering her. "Maria, what happened with Nick's medication?"

She watched as the other woman's face flushed. She was surprised when Maria raised her head and met her eyes. She saw embarrassment and shame there.

Finally Maria began to speak. "I took the medicine with me when we went to that dinner theater," she saw the confusion on Catherine's face. "Nick had talked to his sister Lynnette that afternoon and I was concerned that he might have an attack. Lynnette was very nasty. Nick said it did not bother him, but I knew it had." She could still see the confusion on the other woman's face. "I forgot… I forgot to put the medicine away when we got home." Tears filled her eyes as she remembered why she'd forgotten. She and Nick had gotten caught up in their passion for each other and Maria had forgotten she'd even taken the medication.

"When Nick asked…" her voice failed her for a moment, "When Nick asked about the medication, I truly did not know what he was talking about. I didn't remember what I had done. I was already upset that Nick did not trust me with his pain. And then I remembered. I was embarrassed and ashamed that my forgetfulness was the cause of so much of Nick's pain."

Maria took a deep breath. "I started to explain. But I said it wrong. And then when I realized what he thought I had done, I was hurt. First he would not let me help him, and then he thought that I could deliberately allow him to go through that pain without his medication. I just… I did not understand how he could think that of me." Maria saw the comprehension and horror fill Catherine's eyes. "And then… and then he asked me if I loved him… as if he was not sure I did. It overwhelmed me. All I could think about was getting away. His doubts cut into my heart and I had to get away."

Catherine kept up her soothing rub of Maria's back. She was horrified that all of this began with a simple misunderstanding. She knew both Maria and Nick were under a lot of stress with Craig Miller out there and she promised herself that she'd help them resolve this.

"Maria, why did Nick locking you out upset you so much?" she asked, determined to get all the answers before coming up with a plan. "He locked everyone out."

Maria nodded, willing to put all her problems on the table because she sensed that Catherine was trying to help her. "Yes, he locked everyone out. But I am not everyone." She spoke again before Catherine could begin to suggest that their relationship was not a reason to let her in. "I am a _**doctor**_." She saw realization dawning in Catherine's eyes. "I deal with issues like his pain every day. It is my job." She wet her lips and suggested, "It would be like Nick refusing your help if he was accused of a crime." She saw the understanding fill Catherine's eyes. "It hurt that he would not turn to me." Suddenly tears filled her eyes. "It does not matter any more," she whispered, "I have already destroyed our relationship."

Catherine pulled Maria into a hug and let her cry for a few moments, thinking hard. With a tentative plan in mind, she pulled her away and waited while Maria composed herself a little. "Do you want to fix this?" she asked, searching the other woman's face.

For the first time since she left Nick's house, hope flared in Maria's heart. She gasped, "Yes," searching Catherine's face for any scrap of hope she could find.

"Then let's get you cleaned up. You're coming with us to the auditorium," she said firmly.

"Will they let me in?" Maria asked fearfully.

"They'll let _**us**_ in," Catherine said firmly. She quickly got the other woman up and moving. She had a relationship to mend.

Catherine muttered to herself as she maneuvered her car through the traffic. They were running late. She picked up her phone and dialed a number on speed dial.

"Brass," she heard.

"Jim, it's Catherine. We're running late. Can you stall Nick until we get there?"

"Sure," Brass replied. "Nick'll want to wait for you anyway. Is Lindsey with you?"

"Lindsey and Maria," Catherine said softly. She listened to the silence on the other end.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Jim finally asked, troubled.

"Trust me, Jim. You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt Nick." Catherine said. She flashed a reassuring look at the nervous woman sitting beside her. "We'll be there in ten."

"Ok," Brass replied, "but we're gonna talk about this afterwards."

Catherine agreed and ended the call.

* * *

A/N: Let me know if I left anything hanging with Maria and Nick's relationship. I think I covered why everything happened the way it did. Next chapter will deal with Nick's speech and there or the next will let Nick and Maria resolve their problems.


	8. Chapter 8

FF_992224_544221025 8/28/2010

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

* * *

"_Trust me, Jim. You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt Nick." Catherine said. She flashed a reassuring look at the nervous woman sitting beside her. "We'll be there in ten."_

"_Ok," Brass replied, "but we're gonna talk about this afterwards."_

_Catherine agreed and ended the call._

Nick frowned when Jim told him Catherine was running late. He agreed to wait five minutes past starting time so she could get there before he began. He quietly moved to the curtain and peeked out. He saw his sisters and their husbands sitting next to Billy and Johnny. Billy had wanted to stay backstage with Nick, but Johnny ordered him to his seat when he saw the frustration in Nick's expression. Nick's eyes widened as he saw Sage and Cassie seated with his family as well. Now he knew why Sage had asked so many questions about his speech. She'd wanted to know if it was appropriate for Cassie.

The Crime Lab had taken a whole row in front of Nick's family. It was full except for three seats in the middle. Even Grissom and Sara had stayed in Las Vegas to attend. Nick winced when he realized the only people missing were Catherine, Lindsey and Maria.

He felt his heart contract, but he held his tears back with effort, as he remembered Maria's promise to be here tonight. He missed her so much. He knew he'd jumped to conclusions about what'd happened to his medicine. But he just didn't understand everything that happened between them that day. It didn't add up. Nick knew he was missing something.

Nick's thoughts were interrupted when Brass laid a hand on his shoulder. "They're on their way in," he reported.

Nick nodded and put his thoughts of Maria and their relationship away. He ran through the points he wanted to cover in his speech and took some calming breaths. Suddenly his nervous tension returned even worse. He quickly took another peek through the curtain. He knew seeing his family would help him regain his composure.

He was dumbfounded when he saw Catherine gently patting Maria's trembling hands as they took their seats. He waited for a moment to see how he felt and realized that his feeling of being 'off' was gone. His hands were steady and the butterflies in his stomach were gone. Maria had kept her promise. Somehow that meant everything to him.

Nick gathered his notes then calmly and confidently stepped through the curtains and up to the podium. He just stood there and waited for the crowd to notice he was there. It took a couple minutes, but silence eventually spread through the auditorium.

"Hello," he said into the microphone, "I'm Nick Stokes." Laughter filled the room. "Hey," he said with a smile, "I wanna make sure y'all're in the right place." This provoked another wave of laughter. "First I thought I'd go over why we're here and the ground rules."

Nick looked around at the crowd in the auditorium. "This all started when I decided I wanted to meet some of the students this year. I thought it would be nice to visit some of the classes and introduce myself; that kind of thing. I discussed it with Dr. Cummin's. He liked the idea." Nick smiled at Dr. Cummings who was sitting in the first row. "So I talked to my professors. That's when I ran into the first snag. It seems that they all wanted me to visit _**their**_ classrooms."

Nick smiled at the row of professors sitting next to the university president. "After discussin' it with Dr. Cummin's again, he suggested havin' one big event the night before classes started, that any student could attend. I thought, ok, a little less personal than I intended, but hey, I could deal with that. So letters were sent out to the students. And my professors discussed it with some of their colleagues."

Nick smiled wryly. "And that's when we hit the second snag. It seemed like a whole lot more people wanted to come than we were invitin'. So here we are."

"I'm gonna speak to y'all about why I became a CSI and why I chose to come to UNLV. After that, y'all get the chance to ask me some questions. Y'all were given a card when you came in. You can either write your question down and pass it to one of the ushers, or take it to the microphone and ask me yourself. I won't answer shouted questions. And I have the right to refuse to answer certain questions." He looked around the auditorium. "Y'all got all that?"

He was satisfied with the murmurs of assent and silent indications of agreement he saw throughout the auditorium. "So, why did I become a CSI? It's a long story that starts, I guess, when I was nine." Nick ignored the winces and flinches from his friends and family. The rest of his audience was mostly quiet with anticipation.

Nick took a calming breath and continued. "I was raped by a ranch hand on our family ranch when I was nine." He paused again as shocked silence filled the auditorium. Whatever his audience had been expecting, it wasn't that. "My rapist was killed in an accident and I never told anyone what happened until I was an adult. I also didn't speak at all afterwards for a little over two months."

Nick sighed silently and kept his attention resolutely away from where Megan was watching from behind the scenes. "I didn't have an easy childhood and it wasn't just the rape. But that's not the only thing that influenced my choice of career. I was already in college, a sophomore at Rice studyin' Pre-Law when I made the decision that shifted me from law to degrees in Chemistry and Criminal Justice so I could pursue a career as a CSI. I figured there were plenty of lawyers around, but there weren't enough people focused on speakin' for the victims… the survivors."

Nick took a quiet breath. He steeled himself to get through the next few minutes without breaking down. "One of the extra-curricular activities I took part in at Rice was volunteerin' on the Suicide Prevention Hotline. After my assault as a child, I _**knew**_ how it felt to wish you were dead; to want the pain to just stop." Nick paused and took another careful breath. The auditorium was as silent as it had been after he'd revealed his assault.

"I had the support of my family to get me through." Nick made eye contact with Mandy, Ashley, and Billy, making sure they saw his gratitude. "I was hopin' I could provide that support to someone else; pay it forward as y'all say now." Again Nick paused and took a quiet breath, holding his emotions inside.

"The volunteers were a widely diverse group of people. They ranged from idealistic, to those who were just there for the Community Service credit, to those like me who wanted to help others like themselves. One of the most unique was a guy named Martin Wyler. He was openly gay at a time when that was… dangerous." Nick smiled, remembering. "He was flamboyant. But one thing we _**all**_saw, those of us who worked at the Hotline, was that he cared. Martin cared deeply about the people he was tryin' to help."

"One night, Martin and I were leavin' at the same time, about 1:00 am. He'd just talked someone down and gotten them help and we were both ridin' the high." Nick swallowed convulsively. "Next thing we know, we're bein' attacked. There were six of them. Two of 'em held me down and the other four went after Martin. They beat and sodomized him. I fought the guys holdin' me, but I couldn't get away. I didn't know then what they said to Martin while they were beatin' him, but I could hear them saying' somethin'. The guys holdin' me told me to stop fightin' them; they weren't after me. I told 'em I wasn't gonna just sit and watch 'em beat up my friend. Martin hadn't done anythin' wrong. That's when they started hittin' me, callin' me queer-lover 'n askin' if I was a fag, too. Eventually I lost consciousness."

Nick sighed. "When I came to, we were alone. I crawled over to Martin. He refused to go to the Emergency Room, so I helped him home. I was bruised, had a split lip and a sprained wrist; probably a couple cracked ribs, too. But it was nothin' compared to what they'd done to Martin. I tried again to get Martin to let me take him to the hospital. Not only did he refuse to go, but he insisted I leave him alone."

"I went home, but came back the next day. Martin let me help him with his injuries, but he refused to discuss what'd happened. From my time on the Hotline, I knew I couldn't push him. So I did what he'd let me, and told him I'd testify if he pressed charges; that I'd be there for him no matter what he decided. He wouldn't reply. For three weeks, I called and visited – tried to give him my unlimited support."

"And then one day, he didn't answer. When I got to his place, the police were already there. He'd killed himself. He left…" Nick's voice broke. He took a steadying breath and tried again. "He left me a note. He was there at Rice on a scholarship. But he had to maintain a certain GPA to keep it. He couldn't afford school without that scholarship. And after the attack he was terrified to go to class. The guys who attacked us had threatened him with more of the same if they ever saw him again. But they threatened him with more than that. They threatened to come after me and his other friends if he reported them. Martin didn't see any way out. I promised Martin and myself that I'd dedicate my life to protectin' the survivors and future victims."

Nick took a deep breath, relieved to have gotten through Martin's story without completely breaking down. His eyes drifted to Maria's face for a moment. For some reason, having her here comforted him, even though they hadn't resolved anything. Maria looked up and met his gaze. She'd heard the story before; she was the only one who had, but she was still obviously affected. She sent him a supportive, reassuring smile and he smiled quickly back.

Nick looked down at his notes and regrouped. "That's when I changed my major and transferred to Texas. After I graduated, I went to work at the Dallas PD Crime Lab. I was in the lab for about a year and a half, and then became a CSI 1. The DPD Crime Lab had a mentoring program. I was partnered with a man named Craig Miller. After six to nine months, I started puttin' some things together; noticin' somethin' was wrong. Some of the most violent offenders were just comin' up missin'. And not just on our cases. I didn't put it all together then, but I said somethin' to my mentor. Craig told me that just happened sometimes. It wasn't until after that conversation that I put the final pieces together. I realized that Craig was actin' strangely. I found that somethin' tied back to Craig in the case of every missin' perpetrator. That's when I started investigatin' Craig. I tried to tell the other CSIs what was goin' on, but no one would believe me. As a matter of fact, my supervisor threatened to fire me if I discussed it with anyone again. So I kept my evidence and conclusions to myself, but I kept investigatin'.

Nick sighed. "I should have remembered that I talked to Craig about my theories first. But I was young. And Craig never brought it up again. He kept track of my investigation, though. I found that out when a suspected rapist we'd been gatherin' evidence on suddenly vanished. I started checkin' in to what happened to him. I decided to retrace his steps on the day he disappeared. And I found it. I found the crime scene the suspect had been abducted from. Someone was waitin' there for me, though. When I was inspectin' the blood spatter on the wall, someone came up behind me and hit me."

Nick sighed again. "It was Craig Miller. He didn't start in on me right away because he was too busy with the alleged rapist. I could hear the rapist screamin', but I never saw him. By the time Craig was finished with him and started on me, the other CSIs had found my notes and evidence. Once they got over their shock and realized I'd been right about Craig, they got together and figured out where I was, where I had to be. They made it there before Craig killed me."

Nick looked out over the crowd, but his eyes were unfocused, remembering. "I had a couple broken and a couple cracked ribs, a bruised kidney, some internal bleeding, a broken arm and a fractured jaw. They charged Craig with my kidnappin' and assault, but they couldn't get him for murderin' the suspected rapist. Before startin' in on me, Craig'd cleaned up after the murder. As a CSI, he was able to destroy any evidence that could've been used against him. He pled guilty to the charges and figured that once he was in prison, the motivation to find evidence of his killin's would subside. And he was right."

Nick sighed again. "I guess you're wonderin' what that has to do with why I'm here." He bowed his head for a moment. When he looked up again, his expression was tired and sad. His eyes drifted again to Maria's face and he took some strength from the encouragement in her gaze. "The other CSIs in the DPD Crime Lab didn't exactly appreciate findin' out that I was right and they were wrong about one of the most popular CSIs in the Lab. Some of 'em just hated me. Others, like my Supervisor, felt guilty… guilty they hadn't listened; guilty they tried to shut me up. Not a single one of my co-workers came to visit me, either in the hospital or at home on medical leave."

"So I started lookin' for another place while I was still on leave. Las Vegas had an opening. I applied. When I went into the lab to talk to my Supervisor about the transfer, no one would even look me in the eye… not even him. Clyde apologized and gave me a good recommendation, but we never really mended our fences. Still Jim Brass hired me on the strength of Clyde's recommendation, so I guess he did try to make it up to me."

Nick surveyed his audience again. "I came to Vegas after testifyin' at Craig's sentencin'. I was hired in as a CSI 2. A lot of things have happened to me in the years since I moved to Vegas. I've had a gun pointed at me, and if my Supervisor Gil Grissom had come in thirty seconds later, I wouldn't be here." His gaze met Grissom's for a moment.

"I was stalked by a cable installer named Nigel Crane." Nick took a deep breath and let it out slowly, quietly. "Crane killed a woman, dyed her hair, and then positioned her body over the toilet like the picture of my prom date, 'as a gift', he told me. A psychic involved in the case came to my house to warn me that somethin' terrible was gonna happen there. He didn't realize he was predictin' his own death. Crane killed him, and then held me at gunpoint before pointin' the gun at himself. We were fightin' over the gun when LVPD broke in and subdued him."

Nick took another slow, deep breath and studied the crowd, trying to gauge their reaction. "I was framed and accused of the murder of a prostitute by her pimp, Jack Willman. Catherine Willows found the evidence that cleared me and convicted him. Then, after respondin' to a set-up crime scene, I was kidnapped and buried alive. I wasn't specifically targeted, though. Walter Gordon was after any CSI who responded," he said quietly, saying it out loud, publicly for the first time. He waited until the murmurs died down before continuing. "Then I watched the daughter of my kidnapper OD in front of me when we went to arrest her for the murder of her father's business partner."

His hands clenched tightly behind the podium. His voice was soft and coated with grief as he continued. "And I lost my best friend, Warrick Brown to a corrupt cop: Undersheriff Jeff McKeen. All of us, all of the graveyard shift, worked together to find the evidence to arrest the Undersheriff. I was with Captain Brass when he caught up to the Undersheriff and his accomplice, Officer Daniel Pritchard. They'd crashed their car and Pritchard was dead. McKeen had somehow gotten out. While Captain Brass checked on Pritchard and waited for backup, I went after McKeen. I caught up to him, disarmed him, and did my best not to shoot the…"

Nick paused, forcing his pain and anger back under control. Once he was sure he could speak calmly, he continued. "At first McKeen tried to bluff, sayin' Pritchard had surprised him and he was lucky to get away. When he realized I wasn't buyin' his bull, he started goadin' me; tryin' to get me to shoot him. He kept goin' on and on about how stupid Warrick was; how he never suspected him; how easy it was to erase his smile with his bullets. I knew what Warrick would tell me, but I couldn't help pullin' the trigger." Shocked silence followed this statement, until Nick followed it up with, "I did manage to change my aim, so I missed." Sighs of relief greeted that explanation.

Nick pulled a bottle of water from under the podium and took a long drink. "About eight months ago, I went to a crime scene. I didn't know it was another set-up, this one targeted at me, specifically. Officer Tucker was killed. I was tortured and left to die when the buildin' collapsed. We have evidence that Jack Willman, Nigel Crane, Jeff McKeen and Craig Miller were behind it. This time I ended up with a depressed skull fracture, along with two other smaller skull fractures. My left leg was broken in six places. My left foot was fractured in four. My right leg was broken in four places as well. And I had three broken ribs. Nigel Crane killed Jack Willman, Jeff McKeen and himself in prison. Craig Miller's still at large."

Nick sighed quietly. "It's my left leg and foot that pushed me out of the Crime Lab. They won't hold up to the stress of field work. I'd taken graduate classes while I was workin' at the lab and got my Masters Degree and two doctorates: Forensic Science and Forensic Psychology. I'd had offers before to move into teachin', but the Crime Lab was my love. It wasn't until a couple months after the incident that I spoke with Dr. Cummin's. He offered me the Dean's position and told me to take my time and think over his offer. When I realized my leg wasn't gonna get any better, I accepted the position. And here I am."

He took a deep breath. "Ok, here's where you get the chance to ask all your questions. I'd appreciate if the media would let the students speak first, but as long as y'all follow the guidelines, I'm sure most of your questions will be answered."

Nick took a small step back from the microphone and took a drink while the ushers organized the movement of those with questions to the two microphones that were in the audience.

* * *

A/N: Hope you like this installment.


	9. Chapter 9

FF_992224_99000692 5/14/2012

A/N: Apologies really can't cut it when you recognize how long I've left this story. I am sorry, though. I wrote myself into a corner that I had a really, really hard time getting out of. I'm not going to promise to update this story regularly - but I will promise to finish it. I just need to get back into the mindset for this story.

A/N 2: This is not really going to be a crossover - just a couple of cameo appearances from a couple of our NCIS friends.

* * *

_Nick took a small step back from the microphone and took a drink while the ushers organized the movement of those with questions to the two microphones that were in the audience._

The first couple of questions were routine: What was he going to change? Where did he see the program going? Was he bringing in any new staff?

Nick answered them all quickly and easily. He could tell the students were relieved that there were no major changes in their immediate future. He grinned at the expressions on the faces of his friends when he told the students he was going to play heavily on the sympathy of his friends at the Crime Lab to convince them to come in and guest lecture occasionally.

Then a student came to the podium and asked: "Dr. Stokes, I heard you were adopted. Is that true?"

Nick studied the student for a moment. "May I ask your name?" he asked, stalling for a moment.

"Connor Burke," the student replied.

Nick saw Brass taking notes. "Why are you asking?" he continued, quietly.

"I'm adopted. I wanted to know how you handled the whole finding your birth parents issue. I'm afraid to look; I don't want to hurt my parents." Connor replied.

Nick sighed softly. "I'm afraid I really can't help you with that issue," he explained gently. "My adopted mother is the one who told me I was adopted, and who my birth parents were. So I never did the search; never faced the problem you're strugglin' with." Nick examined Conner's face. "I will tell you this, hidin' what you're doin' will likely backfire on you. Your parents will eventually find out, and knowin' that y'all went behind their backs will hurt worse than if ya told 'em what y'all're doin' up front."

"Thanks," Connor said, his voice thick with emotion.

"If y'all ever need ta talk, just make an appointment," Nick said gently. "I practice an open door policy. Any of y'all students are welcome at any time, for any reason. I have a few necessary security arrangements, so please call before y'all come, but don't hesitate to come."

Connor nodded and stepped away from the microphone.

Nick turned his attention to the person at the second microphone. It was a young man, about 25 years old. He appeared nervous, but determined.

"Dr. Stokes," he said quietly, "you might not remember me. I'm Jared Walker."

Nick searched his memory, but was unable to place the other man. His name was vaguely familiar, though Nick couldn't remember why. "How can I help you, Mr. Walker?" he asked, quietly.

"You already have," Jared replied, just as quietly. "You analyzed the evidence that got me arrested for breaking and entering."

Nick felt the tension of the protectors around him increase dramatically. He quickly looked at all of them, shaking his head quietly. They relaxed just a bit, since the other man had made no attempt to move toward the podium, or threaten Nick in any way. "How did that help you?" he returned his attention to Jared Walker.

"Because you didn't just analyze the evidence, confront me with it, and then forget me." Walker replied, his voice laced with emotion. "You sat me down and told me I was wasting my life. You'd seen my art when you searched my apartment. You told me I was wasting my talent; that I could be better than that. It shocked me that you took the time to look at my art. It opened up possibilities I'd never considered before. After I'd been in prison for a few months, I started drawing again. I spent time with the psychologist there and he helped me get the art to an agent. I got out of prison after five years. And now there's an exhibit of my art here at UNLV. None of this would have been possible, if you hadn't cared for just another thief that you were instrumental in arresting. I've wanted to thank you for a while, now. So when I heard about this event, I decided I'd do it publicly. This way your students can see that you _**can**_ make a difference, and not just with the victims and their families, but also with those on the other side." He met Nick's gaze steadily. "I know I'm the exception to the rule," he continued. "But I wanted to show your students how those who care can actually find the exceptions and help them. Most of the people you help to arrest will tell you that you ruined their lives. I'm telling you that you saved mine. So thanks."

Now Nick knew why the name sounded so familiar. He'd seen the advertisements for the exhibit around campus. "You're welcome, Mr. Walker. I'm glad that you've been able to turn your life around." He vaguely remembered the case. But Walker wasn't the first, or the last perpetrator that he'd lectured about their choices. He was glad his words had had an impact. He just wished that the artist wasn't the exception.

There was a short, contemplative silence before the student at the other microphone began asking his question. The questions returned to commonplace student questions: about the curriculum, the staff, etc. Again, Nick was forthcoming with his plans and policies.

Finally all the students had had a chance to get their questions answered. Nick's expression didn't change but he tensed as the first media person stepped to the microphone.

"Dr. Stokes, I was wondering what your reaction was to the news that Judge Stokes was being investigated and his subsequent retirement from the bench," the reporter asked.

"I'm sorry, that falls into the category of questions I feel are unrelated to the purpose of this event. I will not answer any questions on my adoptive parents and our relationship. That's personal business; it doesn't impact my position at the University." Nick said quietly. He held the gaze of the reporter to let him know he wasn't going to be fooled by any roundabout questioning, either.

With that reporter stymied, Nick looked at the reporter at the other microphone. "Dr. Stokes, can you tell me where the pursuit of Craig Miller stands? I know there's a warrant out for his arrest. Do you have any more information for us?" Candy Staples, an investigative reporter for the local CBS affiliate asked.

"I'll let Captain Brass answer that question," Nick replied. He stood out of the way while Brass told the audience that Craig Miller was still at large. He explained that evidence had been found that definitely linked him to the building collapse that was rigged to kill Nick. Brass went on to say that Miller was suspected to be involved in several other incidents, including a brick through Nick's window and the car accident involving Maria Santiago and Catherine Willows. He ended with the information that Craig Miller was considered armed and dangerous and anyone recognizing him should stay away and call 9-1-1.

"Dr. Stokes," another reporter began, "Is it true Judge Stokes was implicated in your kidnapping and burial five years ago?"

Nick froze and his expression blanked. The auditorium was filled with a tense silence for several moments. Finally Nick forced himself to take a quiet slow breath; and then another. When his breathing was routine again, he looked at the reporter.

"May I have your name?" he asked quietly.

"I'm Jack Lymann. I'm an investigative reporter for the Dallas Daily Journal." Lymann stared intently at Nick. "And I won't reveal my source, so don't even start," he said firmly.

"Very well," Nick replied. "But again, that subject has nothing to do with the reason we're here."

"That's not true," Lymann retorted. "Not if Judge Stokes was involved with Craig Miller. After all, he was instrumental in getting Miller released."

Nick took his time replying. He knew getting angry and nasty with Lymann would be the worst possible course of action. Not only wouldn't it help, but it might actually hurt the situation.

"We have no evidence of any kind that links…" Nick hesitated and thought carefully about how to refer to his adoptive father. He couldn't stomach the thought of calling him his father. But if he referred to him as Judge Stokes, that would only bring up other questions. Finally he continued, "… no evidence that links the Judge to anythin' that Craig Miller has done here or in Dallas. As far as him getting Miller released, he just corrected a mistake in Miller's original sentence. When Miller was convicted, the maximum sentence was twenty-five years, with parole possible after fifteen. But he was given twenty-five years without the possibility of parole. The Judge simply corrected that judicial error."

"What about links between Judge Stokes and Walter Gordon?" Lymann wasn't giving up.

Nick didn't allow the question to disturb his composure. "Again, that subject is not relevant to the purpose of this event." He calmly met Lymann's gaze.

Frustration coated Lymann's voice as he retorted, "Don't you _**care**_ that the Judge was linked to the man who buried you alive? Don't you wonder whether his connections with Jeffrey McKeen led to Warrick Brown's death? If he was connected to McKeen and McKeen was connected to Miller, how can you say there's no evidence Miller was connected to the Judge."

Nick stood very straight at the podium. He met Lymann's gaze again, then swept the audience with his eyes. His voice was calm and composed, but very firm. "I cannot and will not discuss details of an open investigation. And any questions about evidence involving Craig Miller should be directed to Captain Brass. He is the detective in charge of that case. With that said, I'll reiterate my earlier statement. We have no evidence that links the Judge to any actions against me by Craig Miller." He met Lymann's eyes and said, "Is that clear enough for you?"

"Yes, Dr. Stokes," Lymann muttered. Nick knew he hadn't given up; he was just executing a strategic withdrawal so he could muster his forces for another offensive. He made a mental note to do some research on Jack Lymann. He really wanted to know where he was getting his information. Nick turned his attention to the other podium.

"Dr. Stokes," the next reporter began, "can you tell us about the injuries you suffered in the building collapse? Is it true that you suffered amnesia?"

Again Nick took his time in replying. He could not say those injuries were irrelevant to the purpose of this event. They were actually integral to it: because he wouldn't be here without the injuries. But he wasn't sure he wanted to confirm his amnesia. He had no idea what kind of can of worms that would open.

Very carefully, Nick said, "I had a severe concussion, and three skull fractures. There were several very serious side-effects of those injuries. However, the side-effects were pretty much short-term. That said, I don't believe it would add anything to detail those side-effects at this time."

Suddenly Nick saw the officers stationed around him tense. He quickly looked toward Brass. Nick's breath hitched as he watched Jim pale. He was talking on his phone, his free hand clenching into a fist.

"Are you sure?" Jim demanded. "Both of them?" He sighed quietly. "No, we're secure here." He looked around at the officers on the stage. His gaze silently told them to be ready for anything.

It was obvious to Nick that something was very wrong. Looking out at his friends and family, he could tell they knew it as well as he did. He moved away from the podium and toward Brass. Jim moved to meet him.

"What is it?" Nick asked quietly.

"There have been a couple of explosions," Jim said quietly. He put his hand on Nick's shoulder for support.

"Where?" Nick forced out. His hands clenched at his sides.

"Your house," Jim responded gently.

Nick stared at him for a moment. "Which one?" he asked. Then he remembered what Brass had said. "Both of them?" he asked, falteringly.

"No," Brass said, "it was the campus house that was destroyed." He took a deep breath. "It was both of your vehicles that were torched, too. I'm sorry, Nick," Jim said. His eyes took in Nick's shock and pain. "I'm sorry," he said again, helplessly. He didn't have anything else he could say. They both knew who was responsible. They both knew they'd find evidence of Miller at the scenes. But they still had to catch up to him.

A reporter stepped to the microphone, pager in hand. Brass realized that he'd heard quite a few pagers go off in the past few minutes. "Dr. Stokes! Captain Brass!" the reporter called. "What can you tell us about the incident that just happened?"

Brass heaved an angry sigh, a growl escaping at the end. Before he could move to the microphone, Nick reached up a hand to stop him. He kept his face composed as he moved to the podium. He didn't look at his friends; he knew he wouldn't be able to stay composed if he looked at them while he explained what he'd just lost.

Nick cleared his throat, and then began, "Captain Brass just got word of several explosions." Nick saw both the Admiral and his brother sit up straight out of the corner of his eye.

"Where did they occur?" the reporter followed-up.

Nick swallowed quietly, and then responded, "My campus home and both of my personal vehicles were destroyed. We don't have any information on casualties or fatalities." He looked down at his hands. "That's all we know right now. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think it's time to adjourn."

The LVPD and UNLV Security officers quickly moved Nick to a secure location. It wasn't to his personal home; that was being swept for explosives. It was an office somewhere on campus. Nick's office was too small for the group that was assembled. Sage had taken Cassie home, after extracting a promise from Nick to keep her in the loop. But Nick's other family and friends had moved with him to the secure location.

Johnny came striding up. "Gibbs is on his way out with part of his team," he relayed to Nick and Brass quietly. "And there are two agents on their way from LA to help increase your personal security."

Nick opened his mouth to object, but the look on Johnny's face made him close it with his objections unsaid. He knew the Admiral was just trying to look out for his welfare. But Nick hated being the focus of so much concern. He looked around, trying to distract himself from his frustration at the situation.

He blinked when his gaze landed on Maria. His gaze focused when he recognized the fear on her face. Nick didn't look back as he made his way over to Maria. "Can we talk?" he asked quietly, gently.

Maria nodded mutely. They quietly moved to an empty corner of the room. Nick moved a couple of chairs over and waited for Maria to seat herself. Slipping into his own seat, he reached across to Maria and took her hands in his.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Maria looked surprised. "About what?" she asked.

"I'm sorry I didn't recognize that you were scared," Nick admitted. "I should have seen that before."

"It is ok," Maria responded. "I am the one who damaged our relationship."

"I think there's enough blame for both of us," Nick replied. "I dismissed your feelings about my shutting you out."

"Can I tell you why it bothers me?" Maria asked softly.

Nick nodded. "I promise I'll listen," he said.

"Nick, I understand why you don't want the others to see your pain," Maria began. "But I am not anyone; I am a doctor." Nick looked at her sharply. "I deal with people in pain every day. It would be the same as if I was robbed, but instead of letting you and your friends help me, I hired a private investigator. Dealing with pain like yours is my job."

Nick was silent, really considering what Maria had said. He hadn't realized her problem with his actions before. "I never thought of it from that perspective," he admitted after several minutes of silence. "I just didn't want…" he paused and his face flushed a little. "I didn't want to burden you with my pain," he whispered.

"That is just it," Maria said gently. "It is not a burden to me. It is just a symptom to be treated; something I do all day long." She squeezed Nick's hands gently.

Nick nodded and swallowed until he could speak clearly. "I understand that now. It might take me a while to get it through my thick skull, but I'll do my best."

Maria nodded. "About the medication…" she began. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I am so sorry about the medication."

Nick looked at her, confusion plain on his face.

"Do you remember the dinner theater?" Maria asked; her eyes intent on Nick's face.

The confusion remained on Nick's face for a few more minutes, and then comprehension flooded his features. "You took it because of Lynnette…" Nick remembered. He closed his eyes in realization.

"I forgot I had it," Maria admitted. "I did not know what you were talking about. Then, when I realized what you thought I had done…" She blinked back tears. "I could not believe you would think that of me."

"I'm sorry," Nick murmured. He pulled Maria's hands to him and kissed them in apology. "I'm so sorry I overreacted."

"And I am sorry for forgetting that speaking with the Judge affects you so profoundly," Maria said. "I should have remembered your doubts would be much worse after speaking to him."

Nick quietly dropped Maria's hands and opened his arms. Maria slipped herself into them. "Can we put this behind us?" Nick asked, watching her fearfully.

"I love you, Nick," Maria said softly. "I forgive you for everything and I hope you can forgive me, especially for leaving you. I promise I will never do that again. I will do my best to be honest about my feelings. When I am feeling hurt, I will try to let you know why." She reached up and cupped Nick's cheek. "Please can you forgive me?" she whispered.

Nick turned his face into her hand. "Yes," he said shakily. "Yes, I can forgive you. You were overwhelmed. I understand that now. And when I didn't trust you…" his voice trailed off. "I can see how that threw you even further off. And the blame is not only on your side. I'm equally to blame. I promise I will never doubt you again, no matter who I've talked to." He held on to her tightly, content to just have her in his arms again. They stayed that way for a long time, both happy just being together.

Nick looked up when his name was called. He reluctantly left Maria, his gaze silently thanking Catherine for bringing her to the event. He moved over to where Johnny stood with two strangers.

When he reached the group, he realized that one of the men wasn't exactly a stranger. "Sam?" he exclaimed, holding his hand out. "Sam Rogers?"

The large ex-SEAL smiled and met his hand with his own. "Nick Stokes," he responded. "It's good to see you again." Sam gestured to the man next to him. "This is my partner, Garrett Jefferson."

"Agent Jefferson," Nick shook his hand.

"Call me Garrett," Jefferson said quietly. He looked at his partner. "And how do you know Dr. Stokes?"

"It's Nick," Nick said, smiling. "I met Sam years ago; when he was still a SEAL."

Before any more could be said a voice could be heard squealing, "Nicky!"

Nick turned with a smile just as Abigail "Abby" Sciuto bounced up. He could see the man behind her trying to restrain her enthusiasm, but Nick knew that was a wasted effort.

Before crashing into him, Abby came to a halt, right in front of him. "Nicky?" she asked.

"Hey, Abby," he opened his arms and Abby moved right in. She hugged him gently, and Nick was touched that she was concerned enough to restrain her own usually irrepressible energy. When she released him she gestured to the man who'd accompanied her. "Nicky, this is Gibbs. Gibbs, Nick Stokes." She beamed when the two men exchanged a firm handshake and as well as a fond smile for Abby's antics.

Before any more discussion could begin, a loud explosion was heard from elsewhere in the building. Johnny Banks took charge.

"Rogers, Jefferson, you have Nick. Captain Brass?" he snapped.

"You and Gibbs are with me," Brass replied. He looked around at the remaining crowd. "Sam, Alex, you take care of all these people. Billy, you're with me, too." Then they moved toward the location of the explosion, while Sam and Garrett moved Nick in the opposite direction.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for your patience...


End file.
